Tlie    Prompt-Bool'. 

Edited  by  Williitm  Winter. 

Btilwer  s  Drama 

Of 

TTRtckehepi  t~ 


Ai  Presented  bv 


Edwin  Booth, 


"  /  -jjas  born 
Beneath  the  aspect  of  a  bright-eyed  star, 
A  nd  my  triitinp/taiit  adamant  o/  soul 
Is  but  tke  fixed  persuasion  of  success." 

'Like  i/ie  old /Isher  of  the  fable,  Proteus, 
Netting  great  Neptune's  wariest  tribes,  and 

changing 
Info  all  shapes  ivhen  craft  pursued  himself.  " 


"  //e  had  a  way  with  Aim  —  a  something 
7  'i  '.t  always  —  " 

'  There  is  a  strife  in  ivhich  the  loftiest  loo.'i 
Is  the  most  subtle  armour." 


'  The  power  which  i.i  the  age  of  iro:t 
Burst  forth,  ij  curb  the  great  and  raise  the  lo^c. 


Philadelphia 
The  Penn  Pubiishing  Company 

1905 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  yeir  1878, 

6y  WiLL'/M  Winter, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 


'T^HE  full  title  of  this  piece  is  '■'■Richelieu ;  or,  The 
-*  Conspiracy.'^  It  was  tvritten  in  the  fall  of  1 8 j8,  and 
it  7vas  first  acted  on  March  yth,  iSj^.  Macready — for 
whom,  and  under  whose  counsel  it  had  bee?i  made — 
brought  it  out,  at  Covent  Garden,  London,  of  which  theatre 
he  7vas  then  the  manager^  and  himself  personated  Richelieu. 
In  Macready s  '■'■Reminiscences  "  there  are  several  interesting 
allusions  to  this  subject,  notable  as  showing  in  what  manner 
the  drift  of  the  play  was  changed  by  the  author,  under  the 
actor's  advice,  and  also  as  showing  that  the  text  was  freely 
cut,  in  the  process  of  adapting  it  to  the  practical  uses  of  the 
stage.  "  JVhen  I  developed  the  whole  plan  of  alterations," 
says  Macready,  the  author  "  7vas  in  ecstacy."  This, 
evidently,  was  an  instance  in  which  the  literary  faculty 
was  happily  guided  by  an  experienced  afid  Just  dramatic 
i:stinct.  In  this  drama,  consequently,  the  story  is  told  by 
direct  action,  out  of  which  the  language  naturally  floivs, — 
tinged,  it  is  true,  with  the  romantic  sentimentalism  that 
thoro uglily  saturated  Buhner's  thought  and  style, — and  to 
"ailiich,  for  the  most  part,  it  is  a  spontaneous  necessity.  It 
appears  to  have  been  Macready' s  impression  that  Bulwer 
had  drawn,  under  the  name  of  Richelieu,  a  character  entirely 
different  from    the   historic  original :  but    he    records   that 


Bnlwer  at  length  satisfied  him  as  to  the  justice  of  the 
portrayal,  from  the  eviilefice  of  history.  There  is  no  donbt, 
however,  that  the  foct  has  considerably  —  though  neither 
unjustly  nor  inartistically  —  idealized  the  character  of  Riche- 
lieu. His  own  remarks  upon  it,  in  his  essays  upon  '■'■Self- 
ControuT^  and  ''^ Posthumous  Reputation,''  in  ^^Caxtoniana," 
illustrate  this  truth.  '■'■In  Richelieu,"  he  says,  "  there  7C'as 
no  genuine  selfcontroul ;  because  he  had  made  his  whole 
self  the  puppet  of  certain  fixed  and  tyrannical  ideas. ' '  Yet  the 
Richelieu  of  this  play  is  iron  in  his  domination  of  self  and  of 
circumstance.  In  the  play,  moreover,  the  cruelty  of  thi 
Cardinal  nowhere  appears,  7chile  his  craft  and  vanity  are 
much  softened.  He  is  made,  in  fact,  the  ideal  hero  of  a 
poetical  work,  and  he  should  be  regarded  solely  in  this  light. 
The  text  of  the  oi'iginal  has  been  cut  and  arranged  in  accord- 
ance toith  this  idea,  and  zuith  the  plan  of  action  pursued  by 
Edwin  Booth.  This  version  differs  from  those  used  by 
Macready  and  Foj-rest,  and  it  also  differs  from  all  others  in 
print  or  in  use.  The  purpose  which  has  governed  in  the 
editorial  work  was  the  purpose  to  give  all  possible  prominetice 
to  the  poetical  aspect  of  the  character.  As  to  particular 
modifications :  the  long  motiologue  that  begins  Act  Third  has 
been  shortened  to  a  few  carefully  chosen  lines ;  several 
7ninor  scenes  and  several  clusters  of  supetfiuous  lines  have 
been  omitted ;  and  the  characters  of  the  Governor  and 
Gaoler  of  the  Bastile  have  been  excised.  The  year  of  the 
play  is  indicated  by  the  reference,  in  Act  Fifth,  to  the  loss, 
by  Charles  I,  of '■'  a  battle  that  decides  one-half  his  irahn.'' 
The  earliest  of  the  Parliamentary  victories  that  could  with 
propriety  be  so  designated  was  the  battle  of  Mars  ton  Moor, 
fought  on  luly  2d,  1644.  Bukuer,  it  must  be  assumed, 
intended  to  take  a  poetic  license  with  history,  since,  while  no 


other  battle  than  that  is  responsive  to  his  allusion^  both 
Richelieu  and  Louis  XIII.  were  dead  before  that  battle 
was  fought,  before  any  important  battle  had  signalized 
the  strife  betwixt  Charles  I.  and  the  Puritans,  and  before 
Cromwell  had  become  known.  Louis  XIII. ,  of  Fra::ce, 
r:ig:u\l  from  i6lO  to  164J.  Liichelieu  died  in  1642,  aged 
57.  Cromwell,  even  at  Marston  Moor,  ivas  but  second  in 
command.  Richelieu,  it  is  probable,  never  heard  of  him. 
This  drama  was  first  acted  in  America,  September  4th,  i8jg, 
at  Wal lack's  National  Theatre,  in  Leonard  Street,  Neiv- 
York.  Edwin  Forrest  was  then  the  representative  of  the 
Cardinal. 

"  Vivet  exteiito  Procuteius  aevo, 
A^otiis  in /rates  animi  paterni." 

W.   IK 
Nexv-  York,  March  gth,  i8y8. 


"  The  purest  treasure  mortal  times  afford 
Is  spotless  reputation  :  that  away. 
Men  are  but  gilded  loam  or  painted  clay. 
A  jewel  in  a  ten-times  bai  red-tip  chest 
Is  a  bold  spirit  in  a  loyal  breast. 
Mine  honour  is  my  life  ;  both  grow  in  one  : 
Take  honour  from  me  and  my  life  is  done." — Shakespeare. 


"To  him  the  church,  the  realm,  their poiuer  consign ; 
Through  him  the  rays  of  regal  bounty  shine  ; 
Turned  by  his  nod,  the  stream  of  honour  fows  : 
His  smile  alone  security  bestows  : 
Still  to  new  heights  his  restless  wishes  tower : 
Claim  leads  to  claim,  and  power  advances  power." 

Dh.  Johnson 


' '  The  brave  man  carves  out  his  fortune,  and  rvery  man  is  the  son  of  liii 
own  works." — Cervan  i  es. 


'A  fiery  soul,  ivhich,  working  out  its  way, 

Fretted  the  pigmy  body  to  decay. 

And  d  er-itifonned  the  tenement  of  clay." — Drydi^n. 


'Conceal  not  Time's  misdeeds,  but  on  my  brow 

Retrace  his  tnark  ; 
Let  the  retiring  hair  be  silvery  now. 

That  once  was  dark  : 
Eyes  that  reflected  images  too  bright. 

Let  clouds  dercjst. 
And  from  the  tablet  be  abolished  quite, 

The  cheerful  past." — Landor. 


"Old  as  I  am,  I  knoio  what  passioti  is. 
It  is  the  summer's  heat,  sir,  whicli  in  vain 
We  look  for  frost  ?«."— Sheridan  Knowles. 

'Cardinal  Richelieu  s  politics  made  France  the  terror  of  Europe.  " 

Addison. 


"He  who  ascends  to  mountain  tops  shall  find 
The  loftiest  peaks  most  wrappe  I  in  clouds  and  snow  ; 
He  who  surpasses  or  subdues  mankiid 
Must  look  down^  on  the  hate  of  those  below. 
Thouorh  high  above  the  sun  of  glory  glow. 
And  far  beneath  the  earth  and  ocean  spreaf 
Round  him  are  icy  rocks,  and  loudly  blozu 
Contending  tempests  on  his  naked  head. 
And  thus  reward  the  toils  which  to  those  summits  led." 

Lord  Byron. 


Louis  XIII.,  King  of  France. 
Gaston,  Duke  of  Orleans,  brothe7-  to  the  King. 
Cardinal  Richelieu. 
Baradas,  the  King's  favourite. 

Adrian  de  Mauprat,  an  officer  in  the  French  Army. 
De  Beringhen,  a  courtier. 
JoSLPH,  a  Capuchin,  confidant  to  Richelieu. 
HuGuirr.  an  officer  and  a  spy  in  Richelieu's  service. 
FkANgois,    a   Page   to   Richelieu. 
FiR'-T  Courtier. 
FiRsr  Conspirator. 
Captain  of  the  Guard. 

First,  Second,  and  Third  Secretaries  of  State. 
Julie  de  Mortem ar,  an  orphan,  ward  to  Richelieu. 
Marion   de   Lorme,  a  spy  for  Richelieu. 
Courtiers,  Pages,  Conspirators,  Officers,  Soldiers, 
Gentlemen,  and  Attendants. 

3piacc  and  Cinic. 

Scene. — Paris  and  Ruelle  [Reuil],  in  France. 
Period.  —Middle  of  the  Seventeenth  Century. 
Time  of  Action.— /Y^z/r  days. 

Scenes  Required. — First  Act,  two;  Second  Act,  two ; 
Third  Act,  one  ;  Fourth  Act,  one  ;  Fifth  Act,  one.  The 
principal  scene  set  for  Act  First  is  used  again  in  Act 
Second. 


RICHELIEU. 

4 

FIRST    DAY. 

C  Paris.  A  Room  in  the  House  of 
Marion  De  Lorme.  Baradas  and 
Orleans  at  table  r.  Marion  De 
^ccnc  Jfirst.  <J  Lorme  conversing  with  a  Court- 
ier c.  De  Beringhen,  De  Mau- 
PRAT,  and  Courtiers  playing  at 
DICE  L.     Courtiers  looking  on. 

Or/.  [Drm/iwg. 

Here  's  to  our  enterprize  ! 

Bar.  \Glancing  at  Marion. 

Hush,  sir! 

Orl.  {Aside. 

Nay,  count. 

You  may  trust  her;  she  doats  on  me;  no  house 

So  safe  as  Marion's. 

Bar. 

Still,  we  have  a  secret; 

And  oil  and  water — woman  and  a  secret  — 

Are  hostile  properties. 

Orl. 

Well  —  Marion,  see 

How  the  play  prospers  yonder. 

\  Mar  ion  goes  to  the  table  l. 


lO  RICHELIEU. 

Bar.       [Producing  a  parcJimcnt. 

I  have  now 

All  the  conditions  drawn ;  it  only  needs 

Our  signatures. 

Bouillon  will  join  his  army  with  the  Spaniard, 

March  on  to  Paris :   there,  dethrone  the  king ; 

You  will  be  regent;  I,  and  ye,  my  lords 

Form  the  new  council.     So  much  for  the  core 

Of  our  great  scheme. 

Orl. 

But  Richelieu  is  an  Argus ; 

One  of  his  hundred  eyes  will  light  upon  us, 

And  then — good-by  to  life. 

Bar. 
To  gain  the  prize 

We  must  destroy  the  Argus  :  —  ay,  my  lord. 
The  scroll  the  core,  but  blood  must  fill  the  veins 
Of  our  design  :  while  this  dispatched  to  Bouillon, 
Richelieu  dispatched  to  Heaven !     The  last  my  charge. 
Meet  here  to-morrow  night.      You,  sir,  as  first 
In  honour  and  in  hope,  meanwhile  select 
Some  trusty  knave  to  bear  the  scroll  to  Bouillon  : 
'Midst  Richelieu's  foes,  /  '//  find  some  desperate  hand 
To  strike  for  vengeance,  while  we  stride  to  power. 

Orl. 

So  be  it:  —  to-morrow,  midnight. —  Come,  my  lords. 

[Exeunt  Orleans,  and  the  courtiers  in  his  train. 
Those  at  the  other  table  rise,  salute  Orleans,  as 
he  passes  out,  and  irseat  themselves.  Baradas 
goes  to  table  L,  and  watches  the  game. 

De  Ber. 

Double  the  stakes. 

De  Maup. 
Done. 


RICHELIEU.  II 

De  Ber. 

I>ravo  ;  faith,  it  shames  me 

'I'o  bleed  a  purse  already  in  extremis. 

De  Maiip. 
Nay,  as  you  've  had  the  patient  to  yourself 
So  long,  no  other  doctor  should  dispatch  it. 

\^Dc  Mauprat  throws  and  lose: 

Omnes. 
Lost !     Ha,  ha  —  poor  De  Mauprat ! 

De  Ber. 
One  throw  more  ? 

De  Maup. 
No ;  I  am  bankrupt : 

There  goes  all  except  \_Piishiiig  '^old. 

My  honour  and  my  sword. 

De  Ber. 
Ay,  take  the  sword 

To  Cardinal  Richelieu  :  —  he  gives  gold  for  steel, 
AVhen  worn  by  brave  men. 

De  Maup. 

\^Kises  and  ^oes  to  table  r. 
Richelieu ! 

De  Ber.  [  To  Baradas. 

At  that  name 

He  changes  colour,  bites  his  nether  lip. 
Ev'n  in  his  brightest  moments  whisper  "  Richelieu," 
.And  you  cloud  all  his  sunshine. 

Bar. 
1  have  marked  it. 
And  I  will  learn  the  wherefore. 

De  Maup. 
The  Kgy|)tian 

Dissolved  her  richest  jewel  in  a  draught :' 
VVo'ild  I  could  .so  melt  time  and  all  its  treasures, 
And  drain  it  thus.  [Drinking. 


RICHELIEU. 


De  Ber. 


Come,  gentlemen,  what  say  ye ; 
A  walk  on  the  Parade  ? 

Omnes. 
Ay,  come,  De  Mauprat. 

De  Maup. 
Pardon  me ;  we  shall  meet  again,  ere  night-fall. 

Bar. 

I  '11  stay  and  comfort  Mauprat. 

De  Ber. 
Comfort !  —  When 

We  gallant  fellows  have  run  out  a  friend, 
There  's  nothing  left  —  except  to  run  him  through ! 
There  's  the  last  act  of  friendship. 

De  Maup. 

Let  me  keep 

That  favour  in  reserve ;  in  all  beside 

Your  most  obedient  servant. 

[Exeunt  alt  but  De  Mauprat  and  Baradas. 

[N.  B. —  The  scene  is  sometimes  champed,  at  this 
point,  to  facilitate  the  setting  of  the  room  in 
Richelieu'' s  palace.  \ 

Bar. 

You  have  lost  — 
Yet  are  not  sad. 

De  Maup. 
Sad! — Life  and  gold  have  wings, 
And  must  fly  one  day  ;  —  open  then,  their  cages, 
And  wish  them  merry. 

Bar. 

You  're  a  strange  enigma ; 

Fiery  in  war  and  yet  to  glory  lukewarm ; 

All  mirth  in  action;  in  repose  all  gloom. 


RICHELIEU.  13 

Fortune  of  late  has  severed  us  —  and  led 

Me  to  the  rank  of  courtier,  count,  and  favourite, 

You  to  the  titles  of  the  wildest  gallant 

And  bravest  knight  in  France :   are  you  content  ? 

No;  —  trust  in  me  —  some  gloomy  secret 

De  Maup. 

Ay;- 

A  secret  that  doth  haunt  me,  as  of  old. 

Men  were  possessed  of  fiends:  where'er  I  turn, 

The  grave  yawns  dark  before  me. —  I  will  trust  you  : 

Hating  the  Cardinal,  and  beguiled  by  Orleans, 

You  know  I  joined  the  Languedoc  revolt  — 

^Vas  captured — sent  to  the  Bastile 

Bar. 

But  shared 

The  general  pardon,  which  the  Duke  of  Orleans 

Won  for  himself,  and  all  in  the  revolt 

Who  but  obeyed  his  orders. 

De  Maup. 

Note  the  phrase : 

"  Obeyed  his  orders.''''     Well,  when  on  my  way 
To  join  the  duke  in  Languedoc,  I  (then 
The  down  upon  my  lip — less  man  than  boy). 
Leading  young  valours,  reckless  as  myself. 
Seized  on  the  town  of  Faviaux,  and  displaced 
The  royal  banners  for  the  rebel.     Orleans, 
Never  too  daring,  when  I  reached  the  camp, 
Blamed  me  for  acting  —  mark  —  luithout  his  orders. 
Upon  this  quibble,  Richelieu  razed  my  name 
Out  of  the  general  pardon. 


Bar. 


Yet  released  you 
From  the  Bastile- 


14  RICHELIEU. 

De  Maiip. 

I'o  call  me  to  his  presence 

iVnd  thus  address  me  :  —  "  You  have  seized  a  town 
Of  France,  without  the  orders  of  your  leader  ; 
And  for  this  treason,  but  one  sentence —  Death." 

Bar. 

Death ! 

De  Maup. 

"  I  have  pity  on  your  youth  and  birth, 

Nor  wish  to  glut  the  headsman  :  join  your  troop, 

Now  on  the  march  against  the  Spaniards  ;  change 

The  traitor's  scaffold  for  the  soldier's  grave : 

Your  memory  stainless — they  who  shared  your  crime 

Exiled  or  dead — your  king  shall  never  learn  it." 

Bar. 

0  tender  pity  —  O  most  charming  prospect ! 
Blown  into  atoms  by  a  bomb,  or  drilled 
Into  a  cullender  by  gunshot !  —  Well  ? 

De  Maup. 

You  have  heard  if  I  fought  bravely.     Death  became 

Desired,  as  Daphne  by  the  eager  Daygod.^ 

Like  him  I  chased  the  nymph — to  grasp  the  laurel! 

1  could  not  die ! 

Bar. 

Poor  fellow ! 

De  Maup. 

When  the  Cardinal 

Ileviewed  the  troops,  his  eyes  met  mine  ;  he  frowned, 

Summoned  me  forth:   '"How  's  this?"    quoth  he :   "you 

have  shunned 
The  sword — beware  the  axe!  't  will  fall  one  day!" 
He  left  me  thus;  we  were  recalled  to  Paris, 
And — you  know  all ! 


RICHELIEU.  15 

Bar. 

And,  knowing  this,  why  halt  you, 
Spelled  by  the  rattlesnake,  while  in  the  breasts 
Of  your  firm  ftiends  beat  hearts  that  vow  the  death 
Of  your  grim  tyrant  ? — wake  :  be  one  of  us; 
The  time  invites:  the  king  detests  the  Cardinal, 
1  )ares  not  disgrace,  but  groans  to  be  delivered 
Of  that  too  great  a  subject:  join  your  friends, 
Free  France,  and  save  yourself. 

De  Alaup. 

Hush  !     Richelieu  bears 

A  charmed  life:  to  all  who  have  braved  his  power 

One  common  end  —  the  block! 

Bar. 

Nay,  if  he  live, 

The  block  your  doom. 

De  Maiip. 

Better  the  victim,  count, 

Tlian  the  assassin :   France  requires  a  Richelieu, 

But  does  not  need  a  Mauprat.     Truce  to  this  : 

All  time  one  midnight,  where  my  thoughts  are  spectres  : 

What  to  me  fame  ? — what  love  ? — 

Bar. 
Yet  dost  thou  not  love? 

De  Maup. 

Love? — I  am  young 

Bar. 

And  Julie  fair!     \Aside\     It  is  so. 

Upon  the  margin  of  the  grave,  his  hand 

Would  pluck  the  rose  that  /would  win  and  wear!    r  ,,,,   , 

1  hou  lovest ' 

De  Maup.  \  (,'ai/y. 

No  more ! 

1  love  :   Your  breast  holds  both  my  secrets :   never 
Unbury  either  I  —  Come,  while  yet  we  may, 


l6  RICHELIEU. 

We  '11  bask  us  in  the  noon  of  rosy  life ; 
Lounge  through  the  gardens,  flaunt  in  the  taverns, 
Laugh,  game,  drink,  feast :  if  so  confined  my  days, 
Faith,  I  '11  enclose  the  nights.     Pshaw,  not  so  grave ; 
I  'm  a  true  Frenchman  !  —  Vnr  la  bagatelle  I 

[Enter  Hugiiet  and  guards  L. 

Hug. 

Messire  De  Mauprat, — I  arrest  you ! —  Follow 
To  the  lord  Cardinal. 

De  Maup. 

You  see,  my  friend, 

I  'm  out  of  my  suspense ;  the  tiger  's  played 
Long  enough  with  his  prey.     Farewell !     Hereafter 
Say,  when  men  name  me,  "  Adrian  De  Mauprat 
Lived  without  hope,  and  perished  without  fear ! " 

[Exeunt  De  Mauprat,  Huguet,  and  guards,  L. 

Bar. 

Farewell !     I  trust  forever !     I  designed  thee 

For  Richelieu's  murderer — but  as  well  his  martyr! 

In  childhood  you  the  stronger,  and  I  cursed  you; 

In  youth  the  tairer,  and  I  cursed  you  still; 

And  now  my  rival:  while  the  name  of  Julie 

Hung  on  thy  lips,  I  smiled  —  for  then  I  saw. 

In  my  mind's  eye,  the  cold  and  grinning  Death, 

Hang  o'er  thy  head  the  pall !     Ambition,  love, 

Ye  twin-born  stars  of  daring  destinies. 

Sit  in  my  house  of  life!     By  the  king's  aid 

I  will  be  Julie's  husband,  in  despite 

Of  my  lord  Cardinal.     By  the  king's  aid 

I  will  be  minister  of  France,  in  spite 

Of  my  lord  Cardinal ;  and  then ;  what  then  ? 

The  king  loves  Julie  ;  feeble  prince  !  false  master  ! 

Then,  by  the  aid  of  Bouillon,  and  the  Spaniard, 

I  will  dethrone  the  king;  and  all  —  ha  !  —  ha  ! 

All,  in  despite  of  my  lord  Cardinal. 

[Scene  changes. 


RtCHELlEU.  17 

J.        ^  (  Paris.     A  Room    in 
t  ^ecairt.  I      Cardinal  Richeli 


Paris.     A  Room    in   the    Palace   of 

EU. 


[Enter  Richelieu  and  Joseph. 

Rich. 

And  so  you  think  this  new  conspiracy 

The  craftiest  trap  yet  laid  for  the  old  fox  ? 

Fox !  well,  I  like  the  nickname :  what  did  Plutarch 

Say  of  the  Greek  Lysander  ? 

Jos. 
I  forget. 

Rich. 

That  where  the  lion's  skin  fell  short,  he  eked  it 
Out  with  the  fox's !     A  great  statesman,  Joseph, 
That  same  Lysander. 

Jos. 
Orleans  heads  the  traitors. 

Rich. 
A  very  wooden  head,  then  !     Well  ? 

Jos. 
The  favourite, 
Count  Baradas — 

Rich. 
A  weed  of  hasty  growth. 

First  gentleman  of  the  chamber, —  titles,  lands, 
And  the  king's  ear.     It  cost  me  six  long  winters 
To  mount  as  high  as  in  six  little  moons  ' 
This  painted  lizard:  but  I  hold  the  ladder, 
And  when  I  shake  he  falls  :  what  more  ? 

Jos. 
A  scheme 

lo  make  your  orphan-ward  an  instrument 
To  aid  your  foes. 
Your  ward  has  charmed  the  king. 


iS  RICHELIEU. 

Out  on  you ! 

Have  1  not,  one  by  one,  from  such  fair  shoots, 

Plucked  the  insidious  ivy  of  his  love  ? 

And  shall  it  creep  around  my  blossoming  tree, 

Where  innocent  thoughts,  like  happy  birds,  make  music 

That  spirits  in  heaven  might  hear  ? 

The  king  is  weak:  whoever  the  king  loves 

Must  rule  the  king ;  the  lady  loves  another ; 

The  other  rules  the  lady :   thus  we  're  balked 

Of  our  own  proper  sway.     The  king  must  have 

No  goddess  but  the  state  :  —  the  state !  that 's  Richelieu  ! 

JflS. 

This  is  not  the  worst :   Louis,  in  all  decorous. 
And  deeming  you  her  least  compliant  guardian, 
Would  veil  his  suit  by  marriage  with  his  minion, 
Your  prosperous  foe.  Count  Baradas ! 


Rich. 

Ha! 

ha! 

I  have  another  bride  for  Baradas ! 

Jos. 

You, 

my  lord  ? 

Rich. 

Ay  —  more  faithful  than  the  love 
Of  fickle  woman;  when  the  head  lies  lowest. 
Clasping  him  fondest :  sorrow  never  knew 
So  sure  a  soother;  and  her  bed  is  stainless ! 

\Enier  Frangois  c. 
Fran. 

Mademoiselle  De  Mortem ar ! 

Rich. 

Most  opportune  :  admit  her.  [Exit  Francois  c. 

In  my  closet 

You  '11  find  a  rosary,  Joseph ;  ere  you  tell 


RlCMELlEtJ.  ig 

Three  hundred  beads,  I'll  summon  you.      Stay,  Joseph; 

I  did  omit  an  Ave  in  my  matins, — 

A  grievous  fault;  atone  it  for  me,  Joseph; 

There  is  a  scourge  within ;  I  am  weak,  you  strong ; 

It  were  but  charity  to  take  my  sin 

On  such  broad  shoulders. 

Jos. 

I !  guiky  of  such  criminal  presumption 

As  to  mistake  myself  for  you!     No,  never! 

Think  it  not !     [Aside.]     Troth,  a  pleasant  invitation  ! 

[£xi^  Joseph  l.     Enter  Julie  De  Mortcmar  c. 

Rich. 

That's  my  sweet  Julie! 

Julie. 

Are  you  gracious  ?  [Phiciug  herself  at  his  feet. 

May  I  say  "  Father  ?  " 

Rich. 

Now  and  ever ! 

Julie. 

Father ! 

A  sweet  word  to  an  orphan. 

Rich. 

No,  not  orphan 

While  Richelieu  lives  :  thy  father  loved  me  well; 

My  friend,  ere  I  had  flatterers :  now  I  'm  great, 

In  other  phrase,  I  'm  friendless  :  he  died  young 

In  years,  not  service,  and  bequeathed  thee  to  me ; 

And  thou  shalt  have  a  dowry,  girl,  to  buy 

Thy  mate  amid  the  mightiest.     Drooping?  —  sighs?  — 

Art  thou  not  happy  at  the  court  ? 

Julie. 

Not  often. 


20  RICHELIEU. 

Rich.  [Asii/i, 

Can  she  love  Baradas  ?     Ah  !  at  thy  heart  [To  Jii/ie. 

There's  what  can  smile  and  sigh,  blush  and  grow  pale, 
All  in  a  breath.      Thou  art  admired — art  young. 
Does  not  his  majesty  commend  thy  beauty; 
Ask  thee  to  sing  to  him  ? 

Tu/ie, 

He  's  very  tiresome, 
Our  worthy  king. 

J?ic/i. 

Fie  !     Kings  are  never  tiresome 
Save  to  their  ministers.     What  courtly  gallants 
Charm  ladies  most  ?     De  Sourdiac,  Longueville,  or 
The  favourite,  Baradas  ? 


A  smileless  man  —  I 
Fear  and  shun  him. 


Yet  he  courts  thee  ! 


Julie. 


Rich. 


Julie. 


Then — 

He  is  more  tiresome  than  his  majesty. 

Rich. 

Right,  girl;   shun  Baradas.     Yet  of  these  flowers 
Of  France,  not  one,  in  whose  more  honeyed  breath 
Thy  heart  hears  summer  whisper  ? 

[Enter  Huguet  c. 
Hug. 

The  Chevalier  De  Mauprat  waits  below. 

Julie.         [Starting  i/p,  in  alarm. 
De  Mauprat! 


RICHELIEU.  21 

Rich. 
Hem  ! 
I  le  has  been  tiresome  too  !     Anon. 

\Exit  Hui^iiet  c. 

Julie. 
What  doth  he  ? 

I  mean  —  I  —  does  your  eminence — that  is — 
Know  you  Messire  de  Mauprat  ? 

Rich. 
Well !  —  and  you  — 
Has  he  addressed  you  often  ? 

Julie. 
Often!     No  — 

Nine  times  :  nay,  ten ;  the  last  time  by  the  lattice 
Of  the  great  staircase.  [/«  a  melancholy  tone. 

The  court  sees  him  rarely. 

Rich. 
A  bold  and  forward  roister ! 

Julie. 
He?  nay,  modest, 
Gentle  and  sad,  methinks. 

Rich. 
Wears  gold  and  azure  ? 

Julie. 
No,  sable. 

Rich. 

So,  you  note  his  colours,  Julie  ? 

Shame  on  you,  cliild,  look  loftier.     By  the  mass, 

1  have  business  with  this  modest  gentleman. 

Julie. 
You  're  angry  with  poor  Julie  :  there 's  no  cause. 

Rich. 
No  cause !  you  hate  my  foes  ? 


22  RICHELIEU. 

Julie. 
I  do. 

Rich. 
Hate  Mauprat. 

Julie. 
Not  Mauprat :  no,  not  Adrian,  father. 

Rich. 
Adrian  ?  \  Julie  moves  timnxni  c. 

Familiar!     Go,  child  ;  no, —  not ///<?/"  way  ;  wait 
In  the  tapestry  chamber:  1  will  join  you, —  gc. 

Julie.  [Going  h. 

His  brows  are  knit;  I  dare  not  call  him  father. 
But  I  w/zj-/ speak.     Your  eminence — 

Rich.  [Sternly . 

Well,  girl ! 

Julie. 
Nay, 

Smile  on  me — one  smile;  there,  now  I  'm  happy. 
Do  not  rank  Mauprat  with  your  foes ;  he  is  not ; 
I  know  he  is  not ;  he  loves  France  too  well. 

Rich. 

Not  rank  De  Mauprat  with  my  foes  ? 

So  be  it. 

I  '11  blot  him  from  that  list. 

Julie. 

That's  my  own  father. 

[Exit  Julie  R.  i.e. 

Rich.  [Ringing  bell  on  table. 

Huguet ! 

[Enter  Huguet  c. 
De  Mauprat  struggled  not,  nor  murmured  ? 

Hug 
No  :  proud  and  passive. 


RICHELIEU.  23 

Rich. 

\\'u\  him  enter.      Hold  : 

!,()  )k  that  he  hide  no  weapon.      Humph  ;  despair 
Makes  victims  sometimes  victors.     When  he  has  entered, 
(.dide  round  unseen  ;  place  thyself  yonder  ,  watch  him; 
If  he  show  violence  —  (let  me  see  thy  carbine  : 

\Takes^  txa.nines^  and  returns  JIugu.fs  carbine. 
So ;  a  good  weapon) ;  if  he  play  the  lion, 
Why  —  the  dog's  death. 

Hug. 
I  never  miss  my  mark. 

\^Exit  Huguct  c.  RicJicUeu  slo7vly  arranges  papers 
before  him.  Enter  De  Mauprat  c,  preceded  by 
Huguet,  who  retires  R.   and  conceals  himself. 

Rich. 

A-pproach,  sir.     Can  you  call  to  mind  the  hour, 
Now  three  years  since,  when  in  this  room,  methinks, 
Your  presence  honoured  me  ? 

De  Ma  up. 
It  is,  my  lord. 

One  of  my  most 

Rich.  [Dryly. 

Delightful  recollections.^ 

De  Maup.  [Aside. 

St.  Denis  !  doth  he  make  a  jest  of  axe  and  headsman  ? 

Rich.  [Sternly. 

I  did  then  accord  you 
A  mercy  ill  requited. 
Messire  de  Mauprat, 

Doomed  to  sure  death,  how  have  you  since  consumed 
The  time  allotted  you  for  serious  thought 
And  solemn  penance  ? 

De  Afaup.  [Embarrassed. 

The  time,  my  lord  ? 


24  RICHELIEU. 

Rich. 

Is  not  the  question  plain  ?      1  '11  answer  for  thee. 

Thou  hast  sought  nor  priest   nor   shrine ;    no  sackcloth 

chafed 
Thy  delicate  flesh  :  the  rosary  and  the  death's  head 
Have  not,  with  pious  meditation,  purged 
Earth  from  the  carnal  gaze.     What  thou  hast  not  done 
Brief  told  ;    what  done,  a  volume  !     Wild  debauch, 
Turbulent  riot :  for  the  morn  the  dice-box ; 
Noon  claimed  the  duel,  and  the  night  the  wassail : 
These  your  most  holy,  pure  preparatives 
For  death  and  judgment.      Do  I  wrong  you,  sir  ? 

De  Maup. 

I  was  not  always  thus :  if  changed  my  nature, 

Blame  that  which  changed  my  fate.     Alas,  my  lord, 

Were  you  accursed  with  that  which  you  inflicted  — 

By  bed  and  board  dogged  by  one  ghasdy  spectre, 

The  while  within  you  youth  beat  high,  and  life 

Grew  lovelier  from  the  neighbouring  frown  of  death  — 

The  heart  no  bud,  nor  fruit,  save  in  those  seeds 

Most  worthless,  which  spring  up,  bloom,  bear,  and  wither 

In  the  same  hour — were  this  your  fate,  perchance, 

You  would  have  erred,  like  me ! 

Rich. 
I  might,  like  you, 

Have  been  a  brawler  and  a  reveller;    not, 
Like  you,  a  trickster  and  a  thief. 

De  Maup.    \Advancingy  threateningly. 
Lord  Cardinal, 
Unsay  those  words ! 

\Hugiiet  emerges  and  raises  his  carbine. 

Rich.  [Raises  his  hand. 

Not  quite  so  quick,  friend  Huguet ; 

Messire  de  Mauprat  is  a  patient  man, 

And  he  can  wait. 

You  have  outrun  your  fortune ;  [To  De  Mauprat, 


RICHELIEU.  25 

I  blame  you  not  that  you  would  be  a  beggar — 
Each  to  his  taste;   but  I  do  charge  you,  sir, 
That,  being  beggared,  you  would  coin  false  moneys 
Oat  of  that  crucible,  called  debt:  to  live 
On  means  not  yours ;    be  brave  in  silks  and  laces, 
Gallant  in  steeds,  splendid  in  banquets;  —  all 
Not  yours ;    ungiven,  uninherited,  unpaid  foi  : 
This  is  to  be  a  trickster;   and  to  filch 
Men's  art  and  labour,  which  to  them  is  wealth. 
Life,  daily  bread,  —  quitting  all  scores  with  —  "  Friend, 
You  're  troublesome  !  "     Why  this,  forgive  me. 
Is  what — when  done  with  a  less  dainty  grace — 
Plain   folks  call   "  Theft!''     You  owe  ten  thousand  pis- 
toles, 
Minus  one  crown,  two  liards! 

De  Maiip.  \Aside. 

The  old  conjurer ! 

Rich. 
This  is  scandalous. 

Shaming  your  birth  and  blood.     I  tell  you,  sir, 
That  you  must  pay  your  debts. 

De  Maiip. 
With  all  my  heart. 
My  lord  :  where  shall  I  borrow,  then,  the  money  ? 

Rich.  [Aside,  and  smiling. 

A  liumourous  dare-devil :    the  very  man 

To  suit  my  purpose ;    ready,  frank,  and  bold. 

[  To  De  Mai/prat,  and  rising. 
Adrian  de  Mauprat,  men  have  called  me  cruel ; 
I  am  n  )t;  I  am  just.     I  found  France  rent  asunder; 
Tl.e  rich  men  despots  and  the  poor  banditti; 
Slo.a  i.i  the  mart  and  schism  within  the  temple; 
Bra  vis  festering  to  rebellion;  and  weak  laws 
Rotting  away  with  rust  in  antique  sheaths. 
I  have  re-created  France ;   and  from  the  ashes 
Of  the  old  feudal  and  decrepit  carcass, 
Civilization  on  her  luminous  wings 


26 


RICHELIEU. 


Soars,  phoenix-like,  to  Jove !     What  was  my  art  ? 

Genius,  some  say  ;    some,  fortune  ;    witchcraft,  some  : 

Not  so  ;   my  art  was  justice  !      Force  and  fraud 

Mis-name  it  crueUy :    you  shall  confute  them  ! 

My  champion  you  !     You  met  me  as  your  foe. 

Depart  my  friend.       You   shall    not   die :    France    needs 

you. 
You  shall  wipe  off  all  stains  ;    be  rich,  be  honoured  ; 
Be  great :    I  ask,  sir,  in  return,  this  hand, 

[D^  Mauprat  kneels. 
To  gift  it  wath  a  bride,  whose  dower  shall  match, 
Yet  not  exceed  her  beauty. 

De  Maup.  [Hesitating. 

I,  my  lord  — 

I  have  no  wish  to  marry. 

Hich. 

Surely,  sir. 

To  die  were  worse. 

De  Maup.  [Jiises. 

Scarcely ;  the  poorest  coward 

Must  die;   but  knowingly  to  march  to  marriage  — 

My  lord,  it  asks  the  courage  of  a  lion ! 

Rich. 

Traitor,  thou  triflest  with  me.     I  know  all. 
Thou  hast  dared  to  love  my  ward  —  my  charge. 

De  Maup. 

As  rivers 

May  love  the  sunlight  —  basking  in  the  beams, 

And  hurrying  on. 

Rich. 
Thou  hast  told  her  of  thy  love  ? 


RICHELIEU.  27 

De  Maup. 

My  lord,  if  I  had  dared  to  love  a  maid. 

Lowliest  in  France,  I  would  not  so  have  wronged  her, 

As  bid  her  link  rich  life  and  virgin  hope 

^Vith  one,  the  deathman's  gripe  might,  from  her  side, 

Pluck  at  the  nuptial  altar. 

Rich. 

I  beheve  thee  : 

Yet,  since  she  knows  not  of  thy  love,  renounce  her ; 

Take  life  and  fortune  Avith  another. —  Silent  ? 

De  Maup. 

Your  fate  has  been  one  triumph :    you  know  not 
How  blessed  a  thing  it  was  in  my  dark  hour 
To  nurse  the  one  sweet  thought  you  bid  me  banish. 
Love  hath  no  need  of  words  ;    nor  less  within 
That  holiest  temple,  the  heaven-builded  soul. 
Breathes  the  recorded  vow.     Base  knight,  false  lover 
Were  he  who  bartered  all  that  brightened  grief 
Or  sanctified  despair,  for  life  and  gold. 
Revoke  your  mercy ;  I  prefer  the  fate 
I  looked  for. 

Rich.  [  To  Hugnet,  sternly. 

Huguet,  to  the  tapestry  chamber 
Conduct  your  prisoner. 

[  To  De  Maiiprat. 
You  will  there  behold 
The  executioner:  —  your  doom  be  private  — 

[^Crosses  to  R. 
And  heaven  have  mercy  on  you! 

De  Maup. 
AVhea  I  'm  dead. 
Tell  her  I  loved  her — 

Rich.  [Hiding  his /cue. 

Keep  such  follies,  sir, 
For  fitter  ears.     Go. 


28  RICHELIEU. 

De  Maup. 

Does  lie  mock  me  ? 

\Exeiint  De  Mauprat  and  Ihiguct  r.  i.e. 
[Richelieu  laughs. 

Rich. 

Joseph, 
Come  forth. 

[Enter  Joseph  L.  i.e. 
Methinks  your  cheek  has  lost  its  rubies,  Joseph. 
I  fear  you  have  been  too  lavish  of  the  flesh  ; 
The  scourge  is  heavy. 

Jos. 
Pray  you,  change  the  subject. 

Rich. 

You  good  men  are  so  modest !     Well,  to  business. 
Go  instantly  —  deeds  —  notaries! — bid  my  stewards 
Prepare  my  house  by  the  Luzembourg — my  house 
No  more  !  —  a  bridal  present  to  my  ward, 
Who  weds  to-morrow. 


Weds  ?  with  whom  ? 

De  Mauprat. 

A  penniless  husband.  . 


Jos. 
Rich. 

Jos. 
Rich. 


Bah  !   the  mate  for  beauty 
Should  be  a  man  and  not  a  money-chest ! 
When  her  brave  sire  lay  on  his  bed  of  death, 
I  vowed  to  be  a  father  to  his  Julie ; 
And  so  he  died  —  the  smile  upon  his  lips: 
And  when  I  spared  the  life  of  her  young  lover, 
Methought  I  saw  that  smile  again.     Who  else> 
Look  you,  in  all  the  court,  who  else  so  well, 


RICHELIEU.  2;) 

Brave,  or  supplant  the  favourite ;  balk  the  king, 

Baffle  their  schemes?     I  have  tried  him:   he  has  honour 

and  courage. 
Besides,  he  has  taste,  this  Mauprat :  when  my  pla) 
Was  acted  —  to  dull  tiers  of  lifeless  gapers, 
Who  had  no  soul  for  poetry  —  I  saw  him 
Applaud,  in  the  proper  places :  trust  me,  Joseph, 
He  is  a  man  of  most  uncommon  promise  1 

Jos. 
And  yet  your  foe. 

Rich. 

Have  I  not  foes  enow  ? 

Great  men  gain  doubly  when  they  make  foes  friends. 

Remember  my  grand  maxims  :  first  employ 

All  methods  to  conciliate.^ 

Jos. 
Failing  these  ? 

Rich.  [Fiercely, 

All  means  to  crush  !  as  with  the  opening  and 
The  clenching  of  this  little  hand  I  will 
Crush  the  small  venom  of  these  stinging  courtiers.  — 
So,  so,  we  *ve  baffled  Baradas. 

Jos. 

And  when 

Check  the  conspiracy  ? 

Rich. 

Check  ?  check  ?     Full  way  to  it. 

Let  it  b.id,  ripen,  flaunt  i'  the  day,  and  burst 

To  fruit — the  Dead  Sea's  fruit  of  ashes;  ashes 

Which  I  will  scatter  to  the  winds. 

Go,  Joseph ; 

When  you  return  I  have  a  feast  for  you; 

The  last  great  act  of  my  great  play  :  the  verses, 

Methinks,  are  fine. 

Come,  you  shall  hear  the  verses  now.       [Seating  hiwipltt 


3*  RICHELIEU. 

Jos.  [Aside. 

Worse  than  the  scourge ! 
Strange  that  so  great  a  statesman 
Should  be  so  bad  a  poet. 

J^ic/i. 

What  dost  thou  say  ? 

Jos. 

That  it  is  strange  so  great  a  statesman  should 
Be  so  subUme  a  poet.^ 

O  you  rogue,  you  rogue! 
But  come,  the  verses  now. 

Jos. 
My  lord, 
The  deeds,  the  notaries. 

J^ic/i. 

True,  I  pity  you  ! 

But  business  first,  then  pleasure.  \Exit  Joseph  c. 

Rich,  \Reading. 

Ah,  sublime  1 

\Ejitcr  De  Maiiprat  and  Julie  R.  i .  e 

De  Maiip. 

O,  speak,  my  lord !     I  dare  not  think  you  mock  mc. 

And  yet \They  kneel  I cj'ort  hi..: 

Rich. 

This  line  must  be  considered. 

Jjilie. 

Are  we  not  both  your  children  ? 

Rich. 
O,  sir — you  live! 

\Affccting  Jiow  to  see  them  for  the  first  iiute. 


niCHELIEU.  31 

De  Maup. 
Why,  no ;   methinks 
Elysium  is  not  life. 

Julie. 
He  smiles  !  you  smile, 
My  father :  from  my  heart  forever,  now, 
I  '11  blot  the  name  of  orphan. 

Rich. 
Rise,  my  children  — 

For  ye  are  mine,  mine  both ;  and  in  your  sweet 
And  young  delight,  your  love  (life's  first-born  glory) 
My  own  lost  youth  breathes  musical. 

De  Maup. 
I  '11  seek 

Temple  and  priest  henceforward :  were  it  but 
To  learn  Heaven's  choicest  blessings. 

Rich. 
Thou  shalt  seek 

Temple  antl  priest  right  soon :  the  morrow's  sun 
Shall  see  across  these  barren  thresholds  pass 
The  fairest  bride  in  Paris.     Go,  my  children : 
Even  /  loved  once: '"  be  lovers  while  ye  may. 

[  To  De  Mauprat 
How  ij  it  with  you,  sir?     You  bear  it  bravely: 
You  know  it  asks  the  courage  o^  a  lion. 

\Exeunt  De  ATauprat  and  Julie  ■', 
O,  God-like  power!  woe,  rapture,  penury,  wealth, 
Marriage,  and  death,  for  c  ne  infirm  old  man 
Through  a  great  empire  to  dispen  e — withhold  — 
As  the  will  whispers!     And  shall  things,  Hke  motes 
That  live  in  my  daylight;  lackeys  of  court  wages; 
Dwarfed  starvelings;  manikins,  upon  whose  shoulders 
The  burden  of  a  province  were  a  load, 
More  heavy  than  the  globe  on  Atlas,  cast 
Lots  for  my  robes  and  sceptre  ?  —  France,  I  love  theef 
All  earth  shall  never  j  luck  thee  from  my  heart! 
My  mistress,  France  ;  m\-  wedded  wife,  sweet  France  j 
Who  shall  proclaim  divcjrce  for  thee  and  me  1 

CURTAIN. 


SECOND   D 

wwim;     j(  h.*!.,  ^      j^^^.g  House 


second  day. 
Paris.     An  Apartment  in  De  Maup^ 


[Efiter  Baradas  h. 
Bar. 

Mauprat's  new  home :  too  splendid  for  a  soldier ! 

But  o'er  his  floors,  the  while  I  stalk,  methinks 

My  shadow  spreads  gigantic  to  the  gloom 

The  old,  rude  towers  of  the  Bastile  cast  far 

Along  the  smoothness  of  the  jocund  day. 

Well,  thou  liast  'scaped  the  fierce  caprice  of  Richelieu  i 

But  art  thou  further  from  the  headsman,  fool  ? 

Thy  secret  I  have  whispered  to  the  king: 

Thy  marriage  makes  the  king  thy  foe :  thou  stand'st 

On  the  abyss — and  in  the  pool  below 

I  see  a  ghastly,  headless  phantom  mirrored, — 

Thy  likeness,  ere  the  marriage  moon  hath  waned. 

Meanwhile — meanwhile — ha,  ha!  if  thou  art  wedded, 

Thou  art  not  wived! 

\E?iter  De  Mauprat  r 
De  MauJ>. 

Was  ever  fate  like  mine?  — 

So  blessed,  and  yet  so  wretched  I 

Bar. 
Joy,  De  Mauprat ! 
Why,  what  a  brow,  man,  for  your  wedding-day  I 

De  Maup, 
Jest  not.     Distraction! 


RICHELIEU,  33 

Bar. 

What!  your  wife  a  shrew 

Already?     Courage,  man  —  the  common  lot. 

Dc  Maup. 
O,    that  she  were  less  lovely,  or  less  loved  I 

Bar. 
Riddles  again! 

De  Maup. 

You  know  what  chanced  between 
The  Cardinal  and  myself. 

Bar. 
This  morning  brought 

Your  letter:  faith,  a  strange  account.     I  laughed 
And  wept  at  once  for  gladness. 

De  Maup. 
We  were  wed 

At  noon  :  the  rite  performed,  came  hither — scarce 
Arrived,  when 

Bar. 

Well? 

De  Maup. 

Wide  flew  the  doors,  and  lo! 

Messire  de  Beringhen,  and  this  epistle. 

Bar. 
'Tis  the  king's  hand;   the  royal  seal. 

De  Maup. 
Read  —  read ! 

Bar.  \Reading. 

"Whereas  Adrian  de  Mauprat,  colonel  and  chevalier 
in  our  armies,  being  already  guilty  of  high  treason,  by  the 
seizure  of  our  town  of  Faviaux,  has  presumed,  without  our 
knowledge,  consent,  or  sanction,   to  connect  himself  by 

3 


34 


RICHELIEU. 


marriage  with  Julie  de  Mortemar,  a  wealthy  orphan, 
attached  to  the  person  of  Her  Majesty;  we  do  hereby 
proclaim  and  declare  the  said  marriage  contrary  to  law. 
On  penalty  of  death,  Adrian  de  Mauprat  will  not  com- 
municate with  the  said  Julie  de  Mortemar  by  word  or 
letter,  save  in  the  j^resence  of  our  faithful  servant,  the 
Sieur  de  Beringhen,  and  then  with  such  respect  and 
decorum  as  are  due  to  a  demoiselle  attached  to  the  Court 
of  France :  until  such  time  as  it  may  suit  our  royal  pleas- 
ure to  confer  with  the  Holy  Church  on  the  formal  annul- 
ment of  the  marriage,  and  with  our  Council  on  the  punish- 
ment to  be  awarded  to  Messire  de  Mauprat,  who  is 
cautic^ned,  for  his  own  sake,  to  preserve  silence  as  to  our 
injunction,  more  especially  to  Mademoiselle  de  Mortemar. 
(iiven  under  our  hand  and  seal,  at  the  Louvre, 

"  Louis." 
[Gives  back  letter  to  De  Mauprat. 

Amazement!     Did  woi  Richelieu  say   the  king 

Knew  not  your  crime? 

De  Ma  up. 

He  said  so. 

Bar. 
Poor  de  Maujjrat! 

See  you  the  snare,  the  vengeance  worse  than  death 
Of  which  you  are  the  victim? 

De  Maiip. 
Ha! 

Snare?  vengeance, 
\\'orse  than  death  ?     Be  plainer. 

Bar. 

What  so  clear? 

Richelieu  has  but  two  passions. 

De  Maup, 
Richelieu! 


RICHELIEU.  35 

Bar. 

5fes. 

Ambition  and  revenge :  in  you  both  blended. 

First  for  ambition:  Julie  is  his  ward^ 

Innocent,  docile,  phant  to  his  will; 

He  placed  her  at  the  court;  foresaw  the  rest: 

The  king  loves  Julie! 

De  Maiip. 

Merciful  Heaven!     The  king! 

Bar.    ■ 

Such  Cupids  lend  new  plumes  to  Richelieu's  wings: 

But  the  court  etiquette  must  give  such  Cupids 

The  veil  of  Hymen  —  Hymen  but  in  name. 

He  looked  abroad;  found  you  his  foe;  thus  served 

Ambition — by  the  grandeur  of  his  ward, 

And  vengeance  —  by  dishonour  to  his  foe. 

De  Maup, 
Prove  this. 

Bar. 

You  have  the  proof — the  royal  letter; 

Your  strange  exemption  from  the  general  pardon, 

Known  but  to  me  and  Richelieu :  can  you  doubt 

Your  friend,  to  acquit  your  foe?     The  truth  is  glaring 

Richelieu  alone  could  tell  the  princely  lover 

The  tale  which  sells  your  life,  —  or  buys  your  honour. 

De  Maup. 

I  ;:ee  it  all:  mock  pardon  —  hurried  nuptials — 
\-:\.iC  bounty!  —  all!  —  the  serpent  of  that  smile: 
( )!   it  stings  home! 

Bar. 

Yoj  shall  crush  his  malice: 

Our  plans  are  sure;  Orleans  i.i  at  our  head; 

We  meet  to-night;  join  us  and  with  us  tnumph. 


jO  RICHELIEU. 

De  Maup. 

To-night!  —  O  heaven!  —  my  marriage  night!  —  Revenge 
But  the  king?  but  Julie? 

Bar. 

The  king?  infirm  in  health,  in  mind  more  feeble, 

Is  but  the  plaything  of  a  minister's  will. 

Were  Richelieu  dead,  his  power  were  mine;  and  Louis 

Soon  should  forget  his  passion  and  your  crime. 

But  whither  now  ? 

De  Maup. 

I  know  not;  I  scarce  hear  thee; 
A  little  while  for  thought:  anon  I  'U  join  thee; 
But  now,  all  air  seems  tainted,  and  I  loathe 
The  face  of  man! 

\Exit  De  Mauprat  l. 

Bar. 

Start  from  the  chase,  my  prey! 

But  as  thou  speed'st,  the  hell-hounds  of  revenge 

Pant  in  thy  track  and  drag  thee  down, 

[Enter  De  Beringhen  R. 

De  Ber. 
Chevalier, 

Your  cook 's  a  miracle :  what,  my  host  gone  ? 
Faith,  count,  my  office  is  a  post  of  danger: 
A  fiery  fellow,  Mauprat!  touch  and  go, — 
Match  and  saltpeter, — pr-r-r-r! 

Bar. 
Vou 

Will  be  released  ere  long.     The  king  resolves 
To  call  the  bride  to  court  this  day. 

De  Ber. 
Poor  Mauprat! 

Yet,  since  you  love  the  lady,  why  so  careless 
Of  the  king's  suit? 


RICHELIEU.  57 

Bar. 

Because  the  lady's  virtuous, 

And  the  king  timid :  ere  he  win  the  suit 

lie  '11  lose  the  crown;  the  bride  will  be  a  widow; 

And  1  —  the  Richelieu  of  the  Regent  Orleans. 

De  Ber. 

Is  Louis  still  so  chafed  against  the  fox, 

For  snatching  yon  fair  dainty  from  the  lion  ? 

Bar. 

So  chafed  that  RicheHeu  totters.     Yes,  the  king. 
Is  half  conspiring  against  the  Cardinal. 
Enough  of  this.     I  've  found  the  man  we  wanted ; 
The  man  to  head  the  hands  that  murder  Richelieu ; 
The  man  whose  name 's  the  synonym  for  daring. 

De  Ber.  [A/anned. 

He  must  mean  me!     No,  count,  I  am,  I  own, 
A  valiant  dog — but  still  — 

Bar. 
Whom  can  I  mean 

But  Mauprat  ?     Mark,  to-night  we  meet  at  Marion's ; 
There  shall  we  sign:  thence  send  this  scroll 
To  Bouillon.  \SJwwing  a  paper. 

You  're  in  that  secret  —  one  of  our  new  council. 

De  Ber. 

But  to  admit  the  Spaniard,  France's  foe, 

Into  the  heart  of  France  —  dethrone  the  king — 

It  looks  like  treason,  and  I  smell  the  headsman. 

Bar. 
O,  sir,  too  late  to  falter :  when  we  meet 
We  must  arrange  the  separate,  coarser  scheme. 
For  Richelieu's  death.     Of  this  dispatch  De  Mauprat 
Must  nothing  learn.     He  only  bites  at  vengeance, 
And  he  would  start  from  treason.     We  must  post  him 
Without  the  door  at  Marion's  —  as  a  sentry ; 
So,  when  his  head  is  on  the  block,  his  tongue 
Cannot  betray  our  more  august  designs. 


j8  RICHELIEU. 

De  Bcr. 

I  '11  meet  you,  if  the  king  can  spare  me.     \Asidi\\     No ! 
1  am  too  old  a  goose  to  play  with  foxes ; 
I  '11  roost  at  home.     Meanwhile,  in  the  next  room 
There 's  a  delicious  pate ;   let 's  discuss  it. 

Bar. 

Pshaw !  a  man  filled  with  sublime  ambition 
Has  no  time  to  discuss  your  pates. 

De  Ber. 
Pshaw. 

And  a  man  filled  with  a  sublime  pat6, 
Has  no  time  to  discuss  ambition. —  Gad, 
I  have  the  best  of  it ! 

[Exit De  Beringhen  r. 

Bar. 

All  is  made  clear;  Mauprat  fnust  murder  Richelieu  — 
Die  for  that  crime :     I  shall  console  his  Julie. 
This  will  reach  Bouillon  I  —  from  the  wrecks  of  France 
I  shall  carve  out  —  who  knows  —  perchance  a  throne ! 
All  in  despite  of  my  lord  Cardinal. 

\Eiitcr  De  Mauprat  L- 

De  Ma  up. 

Speak  !  can  it  be  ?  —  Methought  that  from  the  terrace 
I  saw  the  carriage  of  the  king  —  and  Julie  ! 
No !     No  !  my  frenzy  peoples  the  void  air 
With  its  own  phantom  ! 

Bar. 
Nay,  too  true. —  Alas! 

Was  ever  lightning  swifter,  or  more  blasting. 
Than  Richelieu's  forked  guile  ? 

De  Maup. 

I  '11  to  the  Louvre 

Bar. 

And  lose  all  hope!     The  Louvre!  — the  sure  gate 
To  the  Bastile! 


RICHELIEU.  39 

De  Maup. 
The  king. 

Bar. 
Is  but  the  wax, 

Which  Rirheheu  stamps  :  break  the  mahgnant  seal, 
And  I  will  raze  the  print.     Come,  man,  take  heart! 
Her  virtue  well  could  brave  a  sterner  trial 
Than  a  few  hours  of  cold,  imperious  courtship. 
Were  Richelieu  dust  —  no  danger! 

De  Maup. 

Ghastly  vengeance ! 

To  thee  and  thine  august  and  solemn  sister, 

The  unrelenting  death,  I  dedicate 

The  blood  of  Armand  Richelieu  !     When  dishonour 

Reaches  our  hearths,  law  dies  and  murder  takes 

The  angel  shape  of  justice  ! 

Bar. 

Bravely  said ! 

At  midnight,  Marion's!  —  Nay,  I  cannot  leave  thee 

To  thoughts  that 

De  Maup. 

Speak  not  to  me !  —  I  am  yours  ! 
But  speak  not!     There  's  a  voice  within  my  soul, 
Whose  cry  could  drown  the  thunder.     O,  if  men 
Will  play  dark  sorcery  with  the  heart  of  man. 
Let  them,  who  raise  the  spell,  beware  the  fiend ! 

[Exc'ie/it  L.     Scene  changes, 

r  Paris.    A  Room  in  the  Palace  of  Car- 
/a^  -^-  a.-...^*.   )      DiNAL  Richelieu.     The  same  as  in 
I      Act    tiRST.     Francois    discovered 
[_     AT  table  l.  u.  e. 

\Enter  Richelieu  and  Joseph. 
Jos. 

Yes  ;  —  Huguet,  taking  his  accustomed  round, 
Disguised  as  some  plain  burgher,  heard  these  rufflers 
Quoting  your  name  — he  listened:     "•  Pshaw,"  said  one, 


40  KICHELIEU. 

•'  We  arc  to  seize  the  Cardinal  in  his  palace 

To-morrow  !  "  —  "  How  ?  "    the    other    asked  ;  —  "  Vou  '11 

hear 
The  whole  design  to-niglit  :   the  Duke  of  Orleans 
And  Baradas  have  got  the  map  of  action 
At  their  fmgers'  end."     "  So  be  it,"  tpioth  the  other, 
"  I  will  be  there, —  Marion  de  Lorme's — at  midnight:  " 

Rich. 
I  have  tliem,  man,  I  have  them ! 

Jos. 

So  they  say 

Of  you,  my  lord:  —  believe  me,  that  their  plans 
Are  mightier  than  you  deem  :  you  must  employ 
Means  no  less  vast  to  meet  them ! 

Rich. 

Bah !  in  policy 

AVe  foil  gigantic  dangers,  not  by  giants, 

But  dwarfs:  the  statues  of  our  stately  fortune 

Are  sculptured  by  the  chisel  —  not  the  axe.'^ 

Ah!  were  I  younger — by  the  knighdy  heart 

That  beats  beneath  these  priestly  robes,  ''^  I  would 

Have  pastime  with  these  cut-throats  !     Yea,  as  when, 

Lured  to  the  ambush  of  the  expecting  foe, 

I  clove  my  pathway  through  the  plumed  sea ! 

Reach  me  yon  falchion,  Lran^ois — not  that  bauble 

I'or  carpet  warriors  —  yonder — such  a  blade 

As  old  Charles  Martel  might  have  wielded,  when 

He  drove  the  Saracen  from  France. 

[Fra>i(ois  brings  to  Richelieu  a  long  two-ha/ideil 
sword. 
With  this 

I,  at  Rochelle,  did  hand  to  hand  engage 
The  stalwart  Englisher:  "  no  mongrels,  boy. 
Those  island  mastiffs.     Mark  the  notch,  a  deep  one. 
His  casque  made  here.     I  shore  him  to  the  waist! 


RICHELIEU,  41 

A  toy  —  a  feather,  then  ! 

[  Tries  to  ivield  it,  but  sinks,  overcome,  into  chair. 
You  see,  a  child  could 
Slay  Richelieu  now. 

Fran. 

But  now,  at  your  command 

Are  other  weapons,  good  my  lord. 

Rich.  \Lifting  a  pen. 

True,  this ! 

Beneath  the  rule  of  men  entirely  great 
The  pen  is  mightier  than  the  sword.     Behold 
The  arch  enchanter's  wand :  itself  a  nothing ; 
But  taking  sorcery  from  the  master  hand  — 
To  paralyze  the  Caesars,  and  to  strike 
The  loud  earth  breathless  !     Take  away  the  sword  — 
States  can  be  saved  without  it ! 

^Frangois  takes  the  sword  back  to  its  place.      Cbck 
strikes. 
*  Tis  the  hour — 
Retire,  sir. 

\Fxit  Franfois  L.  A  knock.  Joseph  opens  secret 
door.  Enter  Marion  de  Lorme,  through  secret 
door. 

Jos.  \_A  mazed, 

IMarion  de  Lorme ! 

Rich. 
Hist!  Joseph, 

Keep  guard.  [Joseph  doses  door  and  retires   c. 

My  faithful  Marion ! 


Marion. 


Ciood,  my  lord. 

They  meet  to  night  in  my  poor  house :   the  Duke 

Of  Orleans  heads  them. 

Rich. 
Yes  ;  go  on. 


42  RICHELIKU. 

Marion. 
His  highness 

Much  questioned  if  I  knew  some  brave,  discreet, 
And  vigilant  man,  whose  tongue  could  keep  a  secret, 
And  who  had  those  twin  ciualities  for  sc*i"vice. 
The  love  of  gold,  the  hate  of  Richelieu. 

Rich. 

You 

Marion. 

Made  answer,  "Yes;  my  brother;  bold  and  trusty; 
Whose   f;^ith    my   faith    could    ])ledge:"    the    duke    ther 

bade  me 
Have  him  equipped  and  armed,  well  mounted,  ready 
This  night  to  part  for  Italy. 

Rich. 
Ah!  — 

Has  Bouillon  too  turned  traitor?  —  So  methought. 
What  part  of  Italy  ? 

Marion. 
The  Piedmont  frontier, 
Where  Bouillon  lies  encamped. 

Rich.  [Aside 

Now  there  is  danger ! 

Great  danger !     If  he  tamper  with  the  Spaniard, 
And  Louis  list  not  to  my  council,  as, 
Without  sure  proof  he  will  not,  France  is  lost ! 
What  more  ?  [  To  Manon 

Marion. 

Dark  hints  of  some  design  to  seize 
Your  person,  in  your  palace :  nothing  clear : 
His  highness  trembled  while  he  spoke ;  the  words 
Did  choke  each  other. 

Rich. 
So  !     Who  is  the  brother 
You  recommended  to  the  duke  ? 


RICHELIEU.  43 

Marion. 
Whoever 
Your  eminence  may  father. 

Rich. 

Darhng  Marion  !  '* 

[  Goes  io   the    table.,  and  returns   7vith    a  purse. 
Marion  affects  to  refuse,  but  presently  accepts  the 
purse. 
There — pshaw  —  a  trifle!     What  an  eye  you  have! 
And  what  a  smile!  —  Ah,  you  fair  perdition  — 
'T  is  well  I  'm  old  ! 

Marion.  [Aside. 

What  a  great  man  he  is  ! 

Rich. 
You  are  sure  they  meet  ?  —  the  hour? 

Marion. 
At  midnight. 

Rich. 
And 

You  will  engage  to  give  the  duke's  dispatch, 
To  whom  I  send  ? 

Marion. 
Ay,  marry! 

Rich.  [Aside. 

Huguet  ?     No : 

He  will  be  wanted  elsewhere.     Joseph  ?  —  zealous, 
But  too  well  known — too  much  the  elder  brother. 
Mauprat  ?  —  alas  !  it  is  his  wedding  day. 
Francois  ? —  the  man  of  men  !  unnoted,  young: 
A  mbitio  us .     [  Strihes  bell.  ]     Francois  ! 

■  ;   [£nter  Fraiii-ois  l.  i.  e. 


44  RICHELIEU. 

Rich. 

Follow  this  fair  lady. 

Find  him  the  suiting  garments,  Marion  :   take 

My  lleetest  steed  :  arm  thyself  to  the  teeth : 

A  packet  will  be  given  you,  with  orders, 

No  matter  what!     The  instant  that  your  hand 

Closes  upon  it,  clutch  it,  like  your  honour, 

Which  death  alone  can  steal,  or  ravish  ;  set 

Spurs  to  your  steed  —  be  breathless,  till  you  stand 

Again  before  me.     Stay,  sir,  you  will  find  me 

1  wo  short  leagues  hence,  at  Ruelle,  in  my  castle. 

Young  man,  be  blithe!  for  —  note  me  —  from  the  hour 

I  grasp  that  packet,  think  your  guardian  star 

Rains  fortune  on  you  ! 

Fran. 

If  I  fail 

Rich. 
Fail  — 

In  the  lexicon  of  youth,  which  fate  reserves 
For  a  bright  manhood,  there  is  no  such  word 
hs,  fail !  —  You  will  instruct  him  further,  Marion. 
Follow  her — but  at  distance:    speak  not  to  her. 
Till  you  are    housed:  farewell,   boy!    never  say   "Tv///" 
again. 

Fran. 

I  will  not! 

Rich. 

That's  my  young  hero  ! 

[Exeunt  Francois  and  Marion  r.  u.  e. 
So,  they  would  seize  my  person  in  this  palace  ? 
I  cannot  guess  their  scheme: — but  my  retinue 
Is  here  too  large :  a  single  traitor  could 

[Strikes  bell.     Joseph  enters  c. 
Strike  impotent  the  faith  of  thousands. — Joseph, 
Art  sure  of  Huguet  ?  —  Think;  we  hanged  his  father. 


RICHELIEU.  45 

Joi, 

But  you  have  bought  the  son;  heaped  favours  on  him. 

Rich. 

Trash!  —  favours  past  —  that's  nothing.     In  his  hours 
Of  confidence  with  you,  has  he  named  the  favours 
To  come  he  counts  on  ? 

Jos. 
Yes  —  a  colonel's  rank, 
And  letters  of  nobility. 

Rich. 

What,  Huguet? 

[Huguet  enters  c,  but  is  unseen  by  the  Cardinal 
and  Joseph. 

Hug. 

My  own  name :   soft !  [Hides  himself. 

Rich. 
My  bashful  Huguet :   that  can  never  be  ! 
\Nq  have  him  not  the  less :  we  '11  promise  it  — 
.\nd  see  the  king  withholds.     Yes, 
U'e  '11  count  on  Huguet. 

Hug.  [Aside. 

'  To  ihy  cost,  deceiver. 

[Huguet  retires. 
Rich. 

You  are  right:  this  treason 

Assumes  a  fearful  aspect :  but  once  crushed, 

Its  very  ashes  shall  manure  the  soil 

Of  power,  and  ripen  such  full  sheaves  of  greatness, 

That  all  the  summer  of  my  fate  shall  seem 

Fruidess,  beside  the  autumn! 

Jos. 
The  saints  grant  it! 

[Huguet  advances. 


4^  RICHELIEU. 

Hug. 
My  lord  Cardinal, 
\  uur  eminence  bade  me  seek  you  at  this  hour. 

Rich. 

Did  1  ?  —  True,  Huguet. —  So,  you  overheard 
Strange  talk  amongst  these  gallants:  snares  and  traps 
For  Richelieu  ?  —  Well,  we  '11  balk  them  ;  let  me  think;  — 
The  men  at  arms  you  head  —  how  many  ? 

Hug. 

Twenty,  '"^  my  lord. 

Rich. 

All  trusty  ? 

Hug 
Yes,  for  ordinary 

Occasions:   if  for  great  ones,  I  would  change 
Three-fourths  at  least. 

Rich. 

Ay,  what  are  great  occasions  ? 

Hug 
(ireat  bribes. 

Rich.  \To  Joseph 

Good  lack,  he  knows  some  paragons 
Superior  to  great  bribes ! 

Hug. 

True  gentlemen, 

Who  have  transgressed  the  laws,  and  value  life. 

And  lack  not  gold ;  your  eminence  alone 

L'an  grant  them  pardon :  ergo,  you  can  trust  them ! 

Rich. 

Logic.     So  be  it — let  this  honest  twenty 

Be  armed  and  mounted. 

They  do  not  strike  till  morning, 


RICHELIEU.  47 

Yet  I  will  shift  the  quarter :  bid  the  grooms 

Prepare  the  htter — I  will  hence  to  Ruelle 

While  daylight  lasts :   and  one  hour  after  midnight 

You  and  your  twenty  saints  shall  seek  me  thither. 

You  're  made  to  rise!     You  are,  sir;  —  eyes  of  lynx, 

Ears  of  the  stag,  a  footfall  like  the  snow : 

You  are  a  valiant  fellow;   yea,  a  trusty. 

Religious,  exemplary,  incorrupt, 

And  precious  jewel  of  a  fellow,  Huguet ! 

d'  1  live  long  enough, —  ay,  mark  my  words — 

If  I  live  long  enough,  you  '11  be  a  colonel  — 

\^Hiigiiet  bows  very  low. 
Noble,  perhaps!  —  One  hour,  sir,  after  midnight. 

Hug. 

You  leave  me  dumb  with  gratitude,  my  lord : 
I  '11  pick  the  trustiest  \asidc\  Marion's  house  can  furnish. 

\Exit  Huguet  o 
Rich. 
Good:    all  favours. 

If  Frangois  be  but  bold,  and  Huguet  honest. 
Huguet  I  half  suspect;   he  bowed  too  low; 
'T  is  not  his  way. 

Jos, 
This  is  the  curse,  my  lord 
Of  your  high  state;  suspicion  of  all  men. 

Rich.  \SadIy. 

True;  true;  my  leeches  bribed  to  poison,  pages 

To  strangle  me  in  sleep;   my  very  king 

(This  brain  the  unresting  loom,  from  which  was  woven 

The  purple  of  his  greatness)  leagued  against  me: 

Old,  childless,  friendless,  broken,  all  forsake  — 

All  — all  — but  — 

Jos. 
What  ? 


Rich. 


The  indomitable  heart 
Of  Armand  Richelieu ! 


4^  RICHELIEU. 

Jos. 
And  Joseph 

Rich.  \Afier  a  pause. 

You  — 

Yes,  I  believe  you — yes;  for  all  men  fear  you, 
And  the  world  loves  you  not:    and  1,  friend  Joseph, 
I  am  the  only  man,  who  could,  my  Joseph, 
Make  you  a  bishop.  '•  \  Joseph  boavs  very  low. 

Come  we  '11  go  to  dinner, 
And  talk  the  while  of  methods  to  advance 

[Joseph  looks  eager/y  into  the  CardinaPs  face,  and 

with    disappoifitmeiit,  l>o7C'S  vcfy  tow  at  "  our 

mother  church.'^ 
Our  mother  church.''' 
Ah,  Joseph  —  Bishop  Joseph!  \Exeunt  m.  i.  e. 

CURTAIN. 


SECOND    day:     midnight. 

C  RuELLE.        Richelieu's      Castle.       A 

^cene  JFtrstJ  ^°'™'^  Chamber.  Moonught  shin- 
j  ing  through  the  Window.  Bed,  on 
(^     Dais  c. 

J^k/i.  [Reading. 

"  In  silence  and  at  night  the  conscience  feels 

That  life  should  soar  to  nobler  ends  than  power." 

So  sayest  thou,  sage  and  sober  moralist !  [/,/  soliloquy. 

But  wert  thou  tried  ? 

Ye  safe  and  formal  men. 

Who  write  the  deeds,  and  with  unfeverish  hand 

Weigh  in  nice  scales  the  motives  of  the  great. 

Ye  cannot  know  what  ye  have  never  tried. 

Alas,  I  am  not  happy:   blanched  and  seared 

Before  my  time;   breathing  an  air  of  hate, 

And  seeing  daggers  in  the  eyes  of  men; 

Bearding  kings. 

And  braved  by  lackeys  '^;  murder  at  my  bed; 

And  lone  amidst  the  mutitudinous  web, 

With  the  dread  three  —  that  are  the  fates  who  hold 

The  woof  and  shears  —  the  monk,  the  spy,  the  headsman: 

And  this  is  power!     Alas  !   I  am  not  happy. 

\  After  a  pause,  during  which  he  is  convulsed  with 
pain. 
Ah!  here!  that  spasm,  again!     How  life  and  death 
Do  wrestle  for  me  momently  ! 

[  Turning  again  to  his  book. 
Speak  to  me,  moralist :     I  '11  heed  thy  counsel. 
Were  it  not  best  — 

[Enter  Francois  hastily  l. 

4 


5<5  klCHEI-IEU. 

Philosophy,  thou  liest  I  [F/ini^iri^^  away  the  hook. 

(^uick  —  the  dispatc  h  1  —  I'owcr  I  —  Kmpirc!      Hoy  —  flie 
packet ! 

J'ran. 

Kill  mc,  my  lord ! 

Rich. 

They  knew  thee  —  they  suspected  — 

They  gave  it  not 

Fran. 

He  gave  it  —  Jii-  —  the  Count 

De  Baradas — with  his  own  hand  ho  gave  it ! 

Rich. 
Baradas !     Joy  !  out  with  it ! 

I'ran. 

Listen, 

And  then  dismiss  me  to  tlie  headsman. 

Rich. 
Ha! 
Go  on. 

Fraji. 

They  led  me  to  a  chamber :  there 
Orleans  and  Baradas,  and  some  half-score 
Whom  I  knew  not,  were  met 

Rich. 
Not  more ! 

Fran. 
But  from 

The  adjoining  chamber  broke  the  din  of  voices, 
The  clattering  tread  of  armed  men :  at  times 
A  shriller  cry,  that  yelled  out,  "  Death  to  Riclielieu  i' 

Rich. 
Speak  not  of  me;  thy  country  is  in  danger! 


kICHELlEU.  51 

Fran. 
Baradas 

Questioned  me  close  —  demurred — until,  at  last, 
O'er-ruled  by  Orleans,  gave  the  packet — told  me 
That  life  and  death  were  in  the  scroll : 
And  Orleans  promised  thousands, 
When  Bouillon's  trumpets  in  the  streets  of  Paris 
Rang  out  shrill  answer:  hastening  from  the  house, 
My  footstep  in  the  stirrup,  Marion  stole 
Across  the  threshold,  whispering,  "  Lose  no  moment 
Ere  Richelieu  have  the  packet:  tell  him,  too, 
Murder  is  in  the  winds  of  night,  and  Orleans 
Swears,  ere  the  dawn  the  Cardinal  shall  be  clay." 
She  said,  and  trembling  fled  within :  when  lo ! 
A  hand  of  iron  griped  me !     Thro'  the  dark, 
Gleamed  the  dim  shadow  of  an  armed  man : 
Ere  I  could  draw,  the  prize  was  wrested  from  me, 
And  a  hoarse  voice  gasped — "Spy,  I  spare  thee,  for 
This  steel  is  virgin  to  thy  lord ! "  — with  that 
He  vanished.  —  Scared  and  trembling  for  thy  safety, 
I  mounted,  fled,  and  kneeling  at  thy  feet. 
Implore  thee  to  acquit  my  faith;  but  not, 
Like  him,  to  spare  my  life. 

Rich. 
Who  spake  of  Hfe? 

I  bade  thee  grasp  that  packet  as  thine  honour — 
A  jewel  worth  whole  hecatombs  of  lives ! 
Begone!     Redeem  thine  honour!     Back  to  Marion — 
Or  Baradas  —  or  Orleans:  track  the  robber: 
Regain  the  packet  —  or  crawl  on  to  age  — 
Age  and  gray  hairs  like  mine — and  know  thou  hast  lost 
That  which  had  made  thee  great  and  saved  thy  country 
See  me  not  till  thou  hast  bought  the  right  to  see  me. 
Away !     Nay,  cheer  thee !  thou  hast  not  failed  yet 
There  's  no  such  word  as  "  fail ! " 

Fmn. 
Bless  you,  my  lord, 

For  that  one  smile !     I  '11  wear  it  on  my  heart 
To  light  me  back  to  triumph.'^  \Rxit  Fra/i^ois.  la. 


RICHELIEU. 

Rich. 

The  poor  youth ! 

An  elder  had  asked  life.     I  love  the  young: 

For  as  great  men  hve  not  in  their  own  time 

But  in  the  age  to  come,  so  in  the  young  my  soul 

Makes  many  Richelieus,     He  will  win  it  yet. 

Francois?     He 's  gone.     My  murder;     Marion's  warning; 

This  bravo's  threat:  O  for  the  morrow's  dawn! 

I  '11  set  my  spies  to  work  —  I  '11  make  all  space, 

As  does  the  sun,  an  universal  eye. 

Huguet  shall  track  —  Joseph  confess  —  ha!  ha! 

Strange,  while  I  laughed  I  shuddered,  and  e'en  now 

Thro'  the  chill  air  the  beating  of  my  heart 

Sounds  like  the  death-watch  by  a  sick  man's  pillow. 

If  Huguet  could  deceive  me!         [Lis/etis.     Noise  outsii/e. 

Hoofs  without — 

The  gates  unclose  —  steps,  near  and  nearer! 

[Enter  Julie  de  Mortemar  l. 

Julie. 

Cardinal!     My  father!  Falls  at  his  feet. 

Rich. 

Julie!   at  this  hour;  and  in  tears. 
What  ails  thee? 

Julie. 
I  am  safe  with  thee! 

Rich. 

Safe!  why  in  all  the  storms  of  this  wild  world 
What  wind  would  mar  the  violet  ? 

Julie. 
That  man  — 

Why  did  I  love  him? — clinging  to  a  breast 
That  knows  no  shelter? 
Listen  :   late  at  noon — 

The  marriage-day  —  ev'n  then  no  more  a  lover, 
He  left  me  coldly.     Well,  I  sought  my  chamber 
To  weep  and  wonder;  but  to  hope  and  dream: 
Sudden  a  mandate  from  the  king, —  to  attend 
Forthwith  his  pleasure  at  the  Louvre. 


RICHELIEU.  53 

Rich. 
Ha! 

You  did  obey  the  summons;  and  the  king 
Reproached  your  hasty  nuptials. 

Julie. 
Were  that  all ! 

He  frowned  and  chid;  proclaimed  the  bond  unlawful; 
Bade  me  not  quit  my  chamber  in  the  palace  : 
And  there  at  night — alone  —  this  night!  all  still, 
He  sought  my  presence  —  dared!  — thou  read'st  the  heart. 
Read  mine :  I  cannot  speak  it ! 

Rich. 
He,  a  king! 
You  —  woman;  well,  you  yielded! 

Julie. 
Cardinal ! 

Dare  you  say  "  yielded  ?  "     Humbled  and  abashed, 
He  from  the  chamber  crept:  this  mighty  Louis; 
Crept  like  a  baffled  felon  !  —  yielded!     Ah! 
More  royalty  in  woman's  honest  heart 
Than  dwells  within  the  crowned  majesty 
And  sceptered  anger  of  a  hundred  kings! 
Yielded!     Heavens!  —  yielded! 

Rich. 

To  my  breast, —  close  —  close! 

The  world  would  never  need  a  Richelieu,  if 

Men  —  bearded,  mailed  men  —  the  lords  of  earth  — 

Resisted  flattery,  falsehood,  avarice,  pride. 

As  this  poor  child,  with  the  dove's  innocent  scorn. 

Her  sex's  tempters,  vanity  and  power! 

He  left  you  —  well! 

Julie. 

Then  came  a  sharper  trial ! 
At  the  king's  suit,  the  Count  de  Baradas 
Sought  me,  to  soothe,  to  fawn,  to  flatter,  while 
On  his  smooth  lip  insult  appeared  more  hateful 


54  RICHELIEU. 

For  the  false  mask  of  pity :  letting  fall 
Dark  hints  of  treachery,  with  a  world  of  sighs 
That  heaven  had  granted  to  so  base  a  lord 
The  he-irt  whose  coldest  friendship  were  to  him 
What  Mexico  to  misers!     Stung  at  last 
Uy  my  disdain,  the  dim  and  glimmering  sense 
Of  his  cloaked  words  broke  into  bolder  light ; 
And  then  —  ah!  then,  my  haughty  spirit  failed  me; 
Then  I  was  weak — wept  —  O!  such  bitter  tears! 
For  (turn  thy  face  aside,  and  let  me  whisper 
The  horror  to  thine  ear)  then  I  did  karn 
That  he — that  Adrian  —  that  my  husband  —  knew 
The  king's  polluting  suit  and  deemed  it  honour ! 
Then  all  the  terrible  and  loathsome  truth 
Glared  on  me;  coldness,  waywardness,  reserve, 
Mystery  of  looks,  words  —  all  unravelled,  and 
I  saw  the  impostor  where  I  had  loved  the  god. 

Rich. 
I  think  thou  wrongest  thy  husband — but  proceed. 

Julie. 

Did  you  say  "  wronged  "  him  ?     Cardinal,  my  father, 
Did  you  say  "  wronged  ?  "     Prove  it !  and  life  shall  glow 
One  prayer  for  thy  reward  and  his  forgiveness. 

Rich. 

Let  me  know  all. 

Julie. 

To  the  despair  he  caused 

The  courtier  left  me ;  but  amid  the  chaos 

Darted  one  guiding  ray  —  to  'scape  —  to  fly  — 

Reach  Adrian,  learn  the  worst:  't  was  then  near  midnight; 

Trembling,  I  Ijft  my  chamber:  sought  the  queen; 

Fell  at  her  feet ;  revealed  the  unholy  peril ; 

Implored  her  aid  to  flee  our  joint  disgrace: 

Moved,  she  embraced  and  soothed  me;  nay,  preserved. 

Her  words  sufficed  to  unlock  the  palace  gatei, 


RICHELIEU.  55 

I  hastened  home  —  but  home  was  desolate  — 
No  Adrian  there!     Fearing  the  worst,  I  fled 
To  thee,  directed  hither.     As  my  wheels 
Paused  at  thy  gates,  the  clang  of  arms  behind 

The  ring  of  hoofs 

Rich. 
'T  was  but  my  guards,  fair  trembler.  \Aside- 

So  Huguet  keeps  his  word,  my  omens  wronged  him. 

Jidic. 
O,  in  one  hour  what  years  of  anguish  crowd  ! 

Rich. 
May,  there  's  no  danger  now.     Thou  need'st  rest. 
Come,  thou  shalt  lodge  beside  me.     Tush  !  be  cheered ! 
My  rosiest  Amazon,  thou  wrong'st  thy  Theseus. 
All  will  be  well  yet ;  yet  all  well. 

[During  this  speech  the  moonlight  fades  away,  and 

the  scene  is  darkened. 
[Exeunt  L.  u.  E.     Enter  Huguet  l.  i.  ^.andDe 
Mauprat,  in  complete  armotir,  his  visor  down. 

Hug. 
Not  here! 

De  Maup. 

O,  I  will  find  him;  fear  not:  hence  and  guard 
The  galleries  where  the  menials  sleep;  plant  sentries 
At  every  outlet.     Chance  should  throw  no  shadow 
Between  the  vengeance  and  the  victim!     Go! 
Ere  yon  brief  vapour  that  obscures  the  moon, 
As  doth  our  deed  pale  conscience,  pass  away, 
The  mighty  shall  be  ashes. 

Hug. 
Will  you  not 
A  second  arm  ? 

De  Maup. 

To  slay  one  weak  old  man  ? 

Away!     No  lesser  wrongs  than  mine  can  make 

Thi^  nvirdcr  lawful.     Hence! 


56  RICHELIEU. 

Hug.      . 
A  short  farewell ! 

[Exi/  Hiiguet  L.  r.  E.    Enter  Richelieu^  L.  u.  e.  nol 
f'i'txeivmg  De  Mauprat. 

Rich. 

How  heavy  is  the  air !  the  vestal  lamp 
Of  the  sad  moon,  weary  with  vigil,  dies 
In  the  still  temple  of  the  solemn  heaven. 
The  very  darkness  lends  itself  to  fear — 
To  treason 

De  Maiip. 
And  to  death! 

Rich. 
Ha! 
What  art  thou,  wretch  ? 

De  Maup. 
Thy  doomsman ! 

Rich. 
Ho,  my  guards! 
Huguet !     Montbrassil !    Vermont ! 

De  Maup. 

Ay,  thy  spirits 

Forsake  thee,  wizard;  thy  bold  men  of  mail 
Are  my  confederates.     Stir  not!  but  one  step, 
And  know  the  next  —  thy  grave! 

Rich. 
Thou  liest,  knave! 

I  am  old,  infirm  —  most  feeble — but  thou  hest! 
Armand  de  Richelieu  dies  not  by  the  hand 
Of  man:  the  stars  have  said  it;'"  and  the  voice 
Of  my  own  prophet  and  oracular  soul 
Confirms  the  shining  sybils!     Call  them  all  — 
Thy  brother  butchers:    earth  hath  no  such  fiend- 
No  !  as  one  parricide  of  his  father-land, 
Who  dares  in  Richelieu  murder  France ! 


RICHELIEU.  57 

De  Maup. 

I'hy  stars 

Deceive  thee,  Cardinal:  thy  soul  of  wiles 

May  against  kings  and  armaments  avail, 

An  1  mock  the  embattled  world;  but  powerless  now 

Against  the  sword  of  one  resolved  man. 

Upon  whose  forehead  thou  hast  written  shame! 

Listen : 

In  his  hot  youth,  a  soldier  urged  to  crime 

Against  the  State,  placed  in  your  hands  his  life; 

You  did  not  strike  the  blow — but  o'er  his  head, 

Upon  the  gossamer  thread  of  your  caprice. 

Hovered  the  axe:   your  death 

Had  set  him  free :    he  purposed  not  nor  prayed  it. 

One   day   you    summoned — mocked   him    with   smooth 

pardon, 
Showered  wealth  upon  him,  bade  an  angel's  face 
Turn  earth  to  paradise. 

Rich. 
Well! 

De  Maup. 
Was  this  mercy  ? 

A  Caesar's  generous  vengeance  ? — Cardinal,  no! 
Judas,  not  Caesar,  was  the  model!     You 
Saved  him  from  death,  for  shame. 
Expect  no  mercy ! 
Behold  De  Mauprat! 

\Lifts  his  visor 

Rich. 
I'o  thy  knees,  and  crawl 
For  pardon  ;  or,  I  tell  thee,  thou  shalt  live 
For  such  remorse,  that,  did  I  hate  thee,  I 
Would  bid  thee  strike,  that  I  might  be  avenged! 
It  was  to  save  my  Julie  from  the  king, 
That  in  thy  valour  I  forgave  thy  crime. 
It  was.  when  thou  —  the  rash  and  ready  tool, 
Yea,  of  that  shame  thou  loath'st,  didst  leave  thy  liearth 


(58  RICHELIEU. 

To  the  i)olluter  —  In  these  arms  thy  bride 
Found  the  i)rotecting  shelter  thine  withheld. 
Julie  de  Mau])rat — Julie! 

\Enter  Julie  L.  u.  E. 
Lo!  my  witness,  sir! 

De  Maup. 
What  marvel's  this?  —  I  dream!     My  Julie  —  thou! 

Julie. 
Henceforth  all  bond 

Between  us  twain  is  broken.     Were  it  not 
For  this  old  man,  I  might,  in  truth,  have  lost 
The  right  —  now  mine  —  to  scorn  thee. 

Rich. 
You  hear  her,  sir. 

De  Maup. 

Thou,  with  some  slander,  hast  her  sense  infected! 

Julie. 

No,  sir;  he  did  excuse  thee  in  despite 

Of  all  that  wears  the  face  of  truth.     Thy  friend — 

Thy  confidant  —  familiar — Baradas — 

Himself  revealed  thy  baseness. 

De  Maup. 
Baseness ! 

Rich. 
Ay; 
That  thou  didst  court  dishonour. 

De  Maup. 

Baradas ! 

Where  is  thy  thunder,  Heaven?  Duped!  snared!  un- 
done ! 

Thou  —  thou  couldst  not  believe  him!  Thou  dost  love 
me' 


RICHELIEU  59 

Julie. 
Love  him!     Ah! 

Ik'  still,  my  heart!      Love  you  I  did:    how  fondly, 
Woman  —  if  women  were  my  hsteners  now  — 
Alone  could  tell!     Forever  tied  my  dream: 
Farewell  —  all's  over! 

Rich. 
Nay,  my  daughter,  these 
Are  but  the  bhnding  mists  of  day-break  love 
Sprung  from  its  very  heat,  and  heralding 
A  noon  of  happy  summer.     Take  her  hand 
And  speak  the  truth  with  which  your  heart  runs  over  — 
That  this  Count  Judas,  this  incarnate  falsehood, 
Never  lied  more  than  when  he  told  thy  Julie 
That  Adrian  loved  her  not  —  except,  indeed. 
When  he  told  Adrian  Julie  could  betray  him. 

Julie.    [  Embracing  De  Ma  iiprat, 
Vou  love  me,  then!  you  love  me!  and  they  wronged  you  J 

De  Maup. 
Ah,  couldst  thou  doubt  ? 

Rich. 
Why,  man,  the  very  mole 

Less  blind  than  thou!     Baradas  loves  thy  wife: 
Had  hoped  her  hand;  hopes  even  now 
To  make  thy  corse  his  footstool  to  thy  bed. 
Where  was  thy  wit,  man?     Ho!  these  schemes  are  glass! 
The  very  sun  shines  through  them. 

De  Maup. 
O,  my  lord,  \Kneels. 

(\in  you  forgive  me  ? 

Rich. 
Ay,  and  save  you! 

De  Maup. 
Save !  — 

Terrible  word!  O,  save  thyself!  these  halls 
Swarm  with  thy  foes :  already  for  thy  blood 
Pants  thirsty  murder! 


OO  RICHELIEU. 

Julie. 
Miirdt-r! 

Rich. 
Hiisli !   put  by 

I'lic  woman.     Hush!  a  sliriek  —  aery  —  a  breath 
loo  loud  would  startle  from  its  horrent  pause 
riic  swooping  death!     Go  to  the  door  and  listen! 
i\ow  for  escape! 

\Julic  i:^oes  to  door  L. 
De  Ma  up. 

None  —  none'     Their  blades  shall  pass 
This  heart  to  thme. 

Rich.  \DnIy. 

An  honourable  outwork, 
But  much  too  near  the  citadel.     I  think 
That  1  can  trust  you  now. 

\SlowIy.,  and  gazing  on  hivi  intently 
Yes  :  I  will  trust  you. 
How  many  of  my  troop  league  with  you? 


All'  — 

We  are  your  troop ' 

And  Huguet? 

Is  our  captain. 


De  Maiip. 

Rich. 

De  Maup. 

Rich. 


Retributive  Power! 

This  comes  of  spies. 

All?     The  lion's  skin  too  short  to-night; 

Now  for  the  fox's. 

Julie. 

A  hoarse  gathering  murmur! 
Hurrying  and  heavy  footsteps! 

Rich. 
Ha!  the  posterns! 


RICHELIEU  6l 

De  Maup. 
No  egress  where  no  sentry! 

Rich. 

I  have  it!  to  my  chamber — quick!     Come,  Julie! 
Hush!  Mauprat  come! 

Voices  Outside. 
Death  to  the  Cardinal! 

Rich. 
We  will 
Baffle  them  yet. 

\Exeimt  De  Mauprat,  Julie,  ami  Richelieu  c. 

Hug.  \^Speaking  outside. 

This  way  —  this  way! 

[Euter,  in  eager  haste,  Huguet  and  the  Conspira- 
tors L.  De  Mauprat,  appearing,  throws  back 
curtains  c.  disclosing  Richelieu  upon  his  bed,  and 
apparently  dead. 

De  Maup. 
Live  the  king ! 
Richelieu  is  dead! 

Omnes.  . 
Dead! 

De  Maup. 

I  watched  him  till  he  slept. 
Heed  me.     No  trace  of  blood  reveals  the  deed: 
Strangled  in  sleep:    his  health  had  long  been  broken: 
Found  breathless  in  his  bed.     So  runs  our  tale; 
Remember!     Back  to  Paris:  Orleans  gives 
Ten  thousand  crowns,  and  Baradas  a  lordship, 
To  him  who  first  gluts  vengeance  with  the  news 
That  Richelieu  is  in  heaven !     Quick,  that  all  France 
May  share  your  joy! 

ffug. 
I  shall  be  noble! 


6i  RICHELIEU. 

I?e  Maiip. 
Away. 

Onirics. 
To  horse!    to  horse! 

I  Exeunt  Conspirators  L.  As  they  t/iivny 
Jnlie  enters,  and  De  Mauprat goei  io  RicLt 
who  leaps  up  and  exclaims  : 

Rich. 
Bloodhounds,  1  laugh  at  you! 

QUICK    CURTAIN. 


511ct  5rourtl), 

third  day. 

(  Paris.     The  Gardens  of  the  Louvre. 
^ccne  iFirfit.  <      Orleans,    Baradas,    De    Beringhen, 
(      Courtiers,  etc.,  discovered. 

Or/. 

How  does  my  brother  bear  the  Cardinal's  death  ? 
Bar. 

With  grief  when  thinking  on  the  toils  of  State; 
With  joy  when  thinking  on  the  eyes  of  Juhe. 
At  times  he  sighs,  "  Who  now  shall  govern  France  ?  " 
Anon  exclaims,  "  Who  now  shall  baffle  Louis  ?  " 

\^Enter  Louis  XIII.  and  Courtiers  r.  u.  e. 

Orl. 

Now,  my  liege,  now  I  can  embrace  a  brother. 
Louis. 

Dear  Gaston,  yes.     I  do  believe  you  love  me : 

Richeheu  denied  it — severed  us  too  long. 

A  great  man,  Gaston  !     Who  shall  govern  France  ? 

Bar. 
Yourself,  my  liege.     That  swart  and  potent  star 
Eclipsed  your  royal  orb.     He  served  the  country; 
But  did  he  serve,  or  seek  to  sway,  the  king  ? 

Louis. 

You  're  right  —  he  was  an  able  politician,  21 

That's  all. 

He  was  most  disloyal  in  that  marriage. 

{Querulously. \     He  knew  that  Julie  pleased  me  :  —  a  clear 

proof 
He  never  loved  me! 


64  RICHELIELT. 

Bar. 

O,  most  clear  !     But  now 

No  bar  between  the  lady  and  your  will. 

This  writ  makes  all  secure :  a  week  or  two 

\Show5  a  paper. 
In  the  Bastile  will  sober  Mauprat's  love, 
And  leave  him  eager  to  dissolve  a  Hymen 
That  brings  him  such  a  home. 

Louis. 

See  to  it,  count. 

\Exit  Baradas  R.  i.e. 
I  '11  summon  Julie  back.     A  word  with  you.    \To  Orleans. 
\King  Louis  takes  aside  Orleans,  and  passes,  con- 
versini^,  through  the  gardens,  followed  by  court- 
iers L.  u.  E.     Enter  Francois. 

Fran. 

All  search,  as  yet,  in  vain  for  Mauprat :  not 

At  home  since  yesternoon :  a  soldier  told  me 

He  saw  him  pass  this  way  with  hasty  strides: 

Should  he  meet  Baradas  they  'd  rend  it  from  him : 

Benignant  fortune  smile  upon  me: 

I  am  thy  son :  if  thou  desert'st  me  now, 

Come  death  and  snatch  me  from  disgrace. 

[Enter  De  Mauprat  c. 

Dc  Maup. 

O,  let  me — 

Let  me  but  meet  him  foot  to  foot — I'll  dig 
The  Judas  from  his  heart ;  albeit  the  king 
Should  o'er  him  cast  the  purple! 


Fran. 


Mauprat !  hold  : 
Where  is  the 


De  Maup. 
Well !     What  wouldst  thou  ? 


RICHELIEU.  65 

Fran. 
The  dispatch ! 

The  packet.     Look  on  me  —  I  serve  the  Cardinal  — 
You  know  me.     Did  you  not  keep  guard  last  night 
By  Marion's  house  ? 

De  Maup. 

I  did:  —  no  matter  now! 
They  told  me  he  was  here! 

Fran. 

0  joy!  quick  —  quick  — 

The  packet  thou  didst   wrest  from  me? 

De  Maup. 
The  packet  ? 

What  —  art  thou  he  I  deemed  the  Cardinal's  spy, 
(Dupe  that  I  was)  and  overhearing  Marion  — 

Fran. 
The  same  —  restore  it!  haste! 

De  Maup. 

1  have  it  not : 

Methought  it  but  revealed  our  scheme  to  Richelieu. 

[Enter  Baradas  r.  i.  e. 
Stand  back! 

Now,  villain!  now  I  have  thee! 

Hence,  sir!  [To  Francois. 

Draw !  [  To  Baradas. 

Fran. 

Art  mad?  the  king's  at  hand!  leave  him  to  Richelieu. 
Speak;  the  dispatch;  to  whom 

De  Maup. 

[Dashing     Frangois     aside    and    rushing    upon 
Baradas. 
Thou  triple  slanderer! 
I  '11  set  my  heel  upon  thy  crest! 

[Mauprat  and  Baradas  fight. 


66  RICHELIEU. 

Fly  —  fly  !     The  king! 

[JS/iter  Loi/is,  Orleans,  De  Beringhen,  courtiers  mid 
guards  L.  u.  E. 

Louis. 

Swords  drawn  before  our  very  palace! 
Have  our  laws  died  with  Richelieu? 

Bar. 

Pardon,  sire, — 

My    crime   but    self-defence.''     [Aside  to   Louis.]     It   is 
De  Mauprat! 

Louis.  [  Sits  on  garden  seat  i .. 

Dare  he  thus  brave  us  ? 

[Baradas  goes  to  the  guard  and  gives  ivrit  to  the 
Captain. 

De  Alaup.  [  To  Louis. 

Sire,  in  the  Cardinal's  name 

Bar.  [To  Captain. 

JJeize  him!  disarm!  to  the  Bastile! 

[De  Mauprat  is  arrested.  TJw  Cirdi/in/'s  march 
is  heard.  Ihen  enter  Riclwlieu  and  Joseph^ 
folhnved  by  the  Cardinal's  guard  c. 


All. 
The  Cardinal! 

De  Maup. 

[  To  Riche  ieu. 

Priest  and  hero  — for  you  are  both  — 
Protect  the  truth. 

[De  Mauprat  knals. 

Rich. 
What  is  this? 

[  Takes  zvrit. 

Bar. 

[In  consternation. 

The  dead  returned  to  life! 


RICHELIEU.  67 

Louis. 

What !    A  7nock  death  !   this  tops 
The  infinite  of  insult. 

De  Ber.  [Aside. 

Fact  in  philosophy  :  foxes  have  got 
Nine  lives,  as  well  as  cats ! 

Bar. 
Be  firm,  my  liege. 

Louis. 
1  have  assumed  the  sceptre;  I  will  wield  it! 

Jos.  \Aside. 

The  tide  runs  counter;  there  '11  be  shipwreck  somewhere. 
[Baradas  and  Orleans  keep   close   to  the  king — 
luhispering  and  pronipting  hini^  luhile  Idchelieu 
speaks. 

Rich. 

High  treason!    Faviaux  !  still  that  stale  pretence. 
My  liege,  bad  men  (ay,  count,  most  knavish  men !) 
Abuse  your  royal  goodness.     For  this  soldier, 
France  hath  none  braver:  and  his  youth's  hot  folly. 
Misled  —  by  whom  your  highness  may  conjecture!  — 

[  To  Orleans. 
Is  long  since  cancelled  by  a  loyal  manhood. 
I,  sire,  have  pardoned  him. 

Louis. 
And  we  do  give 
Your  pardon  to  the  winds.    Sir,  do  your  duty  !    [  To  officer. 

Rich. 

What,  sire?     You  do  not  know  —  O,  pardon  me  — 
You  know  not  yet,  that  this  brave,  honest  heart. 
Stood  between  mine  and  murder!     Sire  !   for  my  sake — 
For  your  old  servant's  sake  —  undo  this  wrong. 
See,  let  me  rend  the  sentence. 

[  Offers  as  if  he  loouhi  tear  the  writ. 


68  RICHELIEU. 

Louis. 
At  your  peril ! 

This  is  too  much.  —  Again,  sir,  do  }Our  duty!     [To  officer. 

\Di'  iMauprat  adva:.ces^ 

Rich. 

Speak  not,  but  go :     I  would  not  see  young  valour 
So  humbled  as  grey  service. 

De  Maup.  » 

Fare  you  well ! 
Save  Julie,  and  console  her. 

\Dl'  Maup) at  goes  up  with  guard.  Richelieu  goa 
R.  to  Joseph.  The  courtiers  surround  Louis, 
■who  sits  L. 

Fran.         \  A  side  to  De  Mauprat. 
The  dispatch  ! 
Your  fate,  foes,  life,  hang  on  a  word!  to  whom? 

De  Maup. 
To  Huguet. 

[Exeunt  Mauprat  and  guard  L.  u.  E. 

Bar.  [.Aside  tj  Francois. 

Has  he  the  packet  ? 

Fran.  [Aside  to  Baradas. 

He  will  not  reveal  — 

[Aside.]     Work,  brain  !    beat,  heart !     "  There  's  no  such 
word  as  fail." 

[Exit  Fran fois  R.  u.  E. 
Rich.  [Fiercely. 

Room,  my  lords,  room  !     The  minister  of  France 
Can  need  no  intercession  with  the  king. 

[  Courtiers  fall  hack.      The  king  rises. 

Louis. 
What  means  this  false  report  of  death,  lord  Cardinal? 

Rich. 
Are  you  then  angered,  sire,  that  I  ;,till  live  ? 


RICHELIEU.  69 

Loiiis. 
No  ;  but  such  artifice  — 

Rich. 

Not  mine  :  look  elsewhere. 

Louis  —  my  castle  swarmed  with  the  assassins. 

Bar,  [Aara/icifi^  l. 

Wc  have  punished  them  already.     Huguet  now 
In  the  Bastile.     O  !  my  lord,  we  were  prompt 
To  avenge  you  —  we  were 

Rk/t. 
We  ?     Ha  !  ha  !  you  hear, 

My  liege  !     What  page,  man,  in  the  last  court  grammar 
Made  you  a  plural  ?23     Count,  you  have  seized  the  hire- 
ling :  — 
Sire,  shall  I  name  the  master  ? 

Louis. 

\_Haiightily ,  to  the  Cardinal. 
Enough ! 

Your  eminence  must  excuse  a  longer  audience. 
To  your  own  palace  :  for  our  conference,  this 
Nor  place,  nor  season. 

Rich. 

Good  my  liege,  for  Justice, 

All  place  a  temple,  and  all  season,  summer! 

Do  you  deny  me  justice  }     Saints  of  heaven  ! 

He  turns  from  me  !     Do  you  deny  me  justice  ? 

My  liege,  my  Louis, 

Do  you  refuse  me  justice  —  audience  even  — 

in  the  pale  presence  of  the  baffled  Murder  ?^'     [A  1/  start 

Louis. 
Lord  Cardinal,  one  by  one  you  have  severed  from  me 
The  bonds  of  human  love;  all  near  and  dear 
Marked  out  for  vengeance,  exile,  or  the  scafifold. 
Y  )  1  find  me  now  amidst  my  trustiest  friends, 
My  closest  kindred ;  you  would  tear  them  from  tnc  j 


70  RICHKI.IEU. 

They  murder  you  forsooth,  since  me  they  love. 
Enough  of  plots  antl  treasons  for  one  reign  ! 
Home  I  home  !  my  lord,  and  sleep  aw  ay  these  jjhantoms  \ 

[Louis  and  courtiers  cross  R. 

Rich. 
Sire' 

I — patience,  heaven!  sweet  heaven  !    Sire,  from  the  foot 
Of  that  great  throne,  these  hands  have  raised  aloft 
On  an  Olympus,  looking  down  on  mortals 
And  worshipped  by  their  awe  —  before  the  foot 
Of  that  high  throne,  spurn  you  the  grey-haired  man, 
Who  gave  you  empire,  and  now  sues  for  safety  ? 

Louis. 

No :  —  when  we  see  your  eminence  in  truth 
At  the  foot  of  the  throne,  we  '11  listen  to  you. 

[Exit  Louis /o/loT.i.'eti  by  all  the  Courtiers  R. 

Orl,  [As  he  goes  out. 

Saved ! 

Bar.  [As  he  goes  out. 

For  this,  deep  thanks  to  Julie  antl  lo  Mauprat! 

Jos. 
If  you  had  been  less  haughty 

JZich. 
No  time  for  ifs  and  buts ! 
I  will  accuse  these  traitors. 
Fran(;ois  shall  witness  that  De  Baradas 
Gave  him  the  secret  missive  for  De  Bouillon, 
And  told  him  life  and  death  were  in  the  scroll. 
I  will  — I  will! 

Jos. 

Tush  !  Fran<;ois  is  your  creature  ; 

So  they  will  say,  and  laugh  at  you :  your  witness 

Must  be  tliat  same  'dispatch. 


RICHELIEU.  71 

Rich. 
Away  to  Marion  ! 

Jos. 

I  have  been  there :  she  is  seized,  removed,  imprisoned, 
By  the  count's  orders. 

Rich. 

Goddess  of  bright  dreams, 
My  country,  shalt  thou  lose  me  now,  when  most 
Thou  need'st  thy  worshipper?     My  native  land! 
Let  me  but  ward  this  dagger  from  thy  heart, 
And  die  but  on  thy  bosom  ! 

\_Enter  Julie  c. 

Julie. 

Heaven,  I  thank  thee ! 

It  cannot  be,  or  this  all-powerful 

Would  not  stand  idly  thus. 

Rich. 

What  dost  thou  here  ? 
Home ! 

Julie. 

Home  ?     Is  Adrian  there  ?  you  're  dumb,  yet  strive 
For  words ;  I  see  them  trembling  on  your  lip, 
But  choked  by  pity.     It  was  truth  —  all  truth  ! 
Seized — the  Bastile — and  in  your  presence,  too  ! 
Cardinal,  where  is  Adrian  ?     Think  !  he  saved 
Your  life :  your  name  is  infamy,  if  wrong 
Should  come  to  his  ! 

Rich. 
Be  soothed,  child. 

Julie. 
Child  no  more  ; 

I  love,  and  I  am  woman  !     Hope  and  suffer : 
Love,  suffering,  hope — what  else  doth  make  the  strength 
And  majesty  of  woman  ?     Let  thine  eyes  meet  mine: 


7-  RICHKLIET. 

Answer  me  but  one  word:    I  am  a  wife: 
I  ask  lliee  lor  my  home,  my  late,  my  all  — 
Where  is  my  husband  ? 

Rich. 
You  are  Richelieu's  ward  ; 
A  soldier's  britle  :   they  who  insist  on  tnith 
Must  outface  fear:  you  ask  me  tor  your  husband? 
There  —  where  the  clouds  of  heaven  look  darkest,  o'er 
The  domes  of  the  Bastile  !'^'* 

Julir. 
O,  mercy  !  mercy  ! 

Save  him,  restore  him,  father  I     Art  thou  not 
The  Cardinal-king?  the  lord  of  life  and  death  — 
Beneath  whose  light,  as  deei)s  beneath  the  moon, 
The  solemn  tides  of  empire  ebb  and  flow  ?  — 
Art  thou  not  Richelieu  ? 

Rich. 
Yesterday  I  WaS  I  — 

To-day  a  very  weak  old  man  :  to-morrow, 
1  know  not  what!  \Crosses  to  l. 

Julie.  [  To  Joseph. 

Do  you  conceive  his  meaning  ? 

Alas  !  I  cannot.     But,  methinks  my  senses 

Are  duller  than  they  were. 

Jos. 
The  king  is  chafed 

Against  his  servant.     Lady,  while  we  speak, 
The  lackey  of  the  ante-room  is  not 
More  powerless  than  the  minister  of  France. 

\Joseph  goes  to  Richelieu.     Enter  First  Courtier  R 

First  Cour. 
Madame  de  Mauprat ! 
Pardon,  your  eminence  —  even  now  I  seek 
This  lady's  home,  commanded  by  the  king 
To  pray  her  presence. 


RICHELIEU.  73 

Julie.  [  Clinging  to  Richelieu. 

Think  of  my  dead  father ! 
Think,  how,  an  infant,  clinging  to  your  knees, 
And  looking  to  your  eyes,  the  wrinkled  care 
Fled  from  your  brow  before  the  smile  of  childhood, 
Fresh  from  the  dews  of  heaven  !     Think  of  this, 
And  take  me  to  your  breast. 

Rich.  [To  Courtier. 

To  those  who  sent  you  ! 

And  say  you  found  the  virtue  they  would  slay. 
Here  —  couched  upon  this  heart,  as  at  an  altar, 
And  sheltered  by  the  wings  of  sacred  Rome  ! 
Begone  !  [  The  Courtier  uncovers  and  bows  reverently. 

First  Cour. 

My  lord,  I  am  your  friend  and  servant. 
Misjudge  me  not ;  but  never  yet  was  Louis 
So  roused  against  you:  shall  I  take  this  answer?  — 
It  were  to  be  your  foe. 

Rich. 
All  time  my  foe. 

If  I,  a  priest,  could  cast  this  holy  sorrow- 
Forth  from  her  last  asylum  ! 

[Exit  First  Courtier  r.     Julie  faints  in  the  Cardi- 
naPs  arms. 

Rich. 

God  help  thee,  child  !     She  hears  not !     Look  upon  her ! 
Her  father  loved  me  so !  and  in  that  age 
When  friends  are  brothers ;  she  has  been  to  me 
Soother,  nurse,  plaything,  daughter.     Are  these  tears  ?  '^ 
O  !  shame  !  shame  !  dotage  ! 

[Joseph  assists  to  place  Julie  o:i  seat  L. 

Jos. 
Tears  are  not  for  eyes 

That  rather  need  the  lightning,  which  can  pierce 
Through  barred  gates  and  triple  walls,  to  smite 
Crime,  where  it  cowers  in  secret !     The  dispatch  ' 


74  RICHELIEU. 

Set  every  spy  to  work  ;  the  morrow's  sun 
Must  see  that  written  treason  in  your  hands, 
Or  rise  upon  your  ruin. 

Rich. 

Ay  —  and  close  upon  my  corse. 
Yes  !  to-morrow,  triumph  or  death. 
Look  up,  child!     Lead  us,  Joseph. 

\As  they  arc  going  c,  enter  Baradas  and  De  Ber- 
inghcn  r. 

Bar. 

My  lord,  the  king  cannot  believe  your  eminence 
So  far  forgets  your  duty,  and  his  greatness, 
As  to  resist  his  mandate.     Pray  you,  madam. 
Obey  the  king:  no  cause  for  fear. 

Julie.  [  To  Richelieu. 

My  father! 

Rich.  yio  Baradas. 

She  shall  not  stir! 

Bar. 

You  are  not  of  her  kindred  — 
An  orphan 

Rich. 
The  country  is  her  mother! 

Bar. 
The  country  is  the  king! 

Rich. 
Ay,  is  it  so; 

Then  wakes  the  power,  which  in  the  age  of  iron  ' ' 
Burst  forth  to  curb  the  great,  and  raise  the  low. 
Mark  where  she  stands:  \He places  Julie  l.  c. 

Around  her  form  I  draw 
The  awful  circle  ^^  of  our  solemn  church! 

[Baradas  and  De  Beringhen  unco'cer. 
Set  but  a  foot  within  that  holy  ground, 
And  on  thy  head  —  yea,  though  it  wore  a  crown  — 
I  launch  the  curse  of  Rome ! 

[All  but  Richelieu  and  Joseph  ktieel.      Joseph  dis- 
plays the  cross. 


RICHELIEU.  75 

Bar.  \Kiscs. 

I  dare  not  brave  you! 
I  do  but  speak  the  orders  of  my  king. 
The  church,  your  rank,  power,  very  word,  my  lord, 
Suffice  you  for  resistance :  blame  yourself. 
If  it  should  cost  you  power! 

Rich. 
That  my  stake.     Ah ! 

Dark  gamester!  what  is  thine!  Look  to  it  well! 
Lose  not  a  trick.  By  this  same  hour  to-morrow 
Thou  shalt  have  France,  or  I  thy  head! 

Bar.      [Aside  to  De  Beringhcn. 
He  cannot  have  the  dispatch  ? 

Jos.  \  A  side. 

Patience!     Patience! 

Rich. 
O !  monk ! 

Leave  patience  to  the  saints  —  for  I  am  human! 
Did  not  thy  father  die  for  France,  poor  orphan ! 

[  To  Julie,  embracing  her. 
And  now  they  say  thou  hast  no  father.      Fie! 
Art  thou  not  pure  and  good  ?     If  so,  thou  art 
A  part  of  that  —  the  beautiful,  the  sacred  — 
Which,  in  all  climes,  men  that  have  hearts  adore 
By  the  great  title  of  their  mother  country. 

Bar. 

He  wanders  ! 

RicJi. 
So;  cling  close  unto  my  breast: 

Here  where  thou  droop 'st  lies  France!     I  am  very  feeble: 
Of  little  use  it  seems  to  either  now. 
Well,  well  —  we  will  go  home. 

Bar. 

In  sooth,  my  lord, 

Y';u  do  need  rest;  the  burdens  of  the  state 

O  'ertask  your  health. 


76  RICHELIEU. 

Rich.  [To  Joseph. 

I  'm  patient,  see  ! 

Bar. 

His  mind 

And  life  are  breaking  fast. 

Rich .  [  Ch 'er hearing  hint . 

Irreverent  ribald! 

If  so,  beware  the  falling  ruins!     Hark! 
I  tell  thee,  scorner  of  these  whitening  hairs. 
When  this  snow  melteth  there  shall  come  a  flood! 
Avaunt!  my  name  is  Richelieu — I  defy  thee! 
Walk  blindfold  on:  behind  thee  stalks  the  headsman. 
Ha!  ha!  —  how  pale  he  glares!     Heaven  save  my  country! 

\Falls  back  in  Joscpli's  arms. 

CURTAIN. 


%tt  f  iftf). 


(  Paris.     Apartment  of   State    in    the 
§cene  JFirfit.  <      Louvre.     Throne    r.     Baradas    and 
(      Orleans  discovered. 

Bar. 

All  smiles :  the  Cardinal's  swoon  of  yesterday 

Heralds  his  death  to-day :  could  he  survive, 

It  would  not  be  as  minister  —  so  great 

rhe  king's  resentment  at  the  priest's  defiance. 

All  smiles!   and  yet  should  this  accursed  De  Mauprat 

Have  given  our  packet  to  another — 'Sdeath  ! 

[  dare  not  think  of  it! 

Or/. 

Vou  've  sent  to  search  him  ? 

Bar. 

Sent,  sir,  to  search?  —  that  hireling  hands  may  find 

Upon  him,  naked,  with  its  broken  seal, 

That  scroll  whose  every  word  is  death?     No  —  no  — 

These  hands  alone  must  clutch  that  awful  secret. 

I  dare  not  leave  the  palace,  night  or  day. 

While  Richelieu  lives:  his  minions,  creatures,  spies  — 

Not  one  must  reach  the  king. 

Or/. 
What  hast  thou  done? 

Bar. 

Summoned  De  Mauprat  hither. 

Or/. 
Could  this  Huguet, 

Who  jirayed  thy  presence  with  so  fierce  a  fervour, 
Ha\e  thieved  the  scroll? 


/5  RICHELIEU. 

Bar. 

Huguet  was  housed  with  us, 

The  very  moment  we  dismissed  the  courier. 

It  cannot  be:  a  stale  trick  for  reprieve. 

But,  to  make  sure,  I  've  sent  our  trustiest  friend 

To  see  and  sift  him.     Hist!  here  comes  the  king. 

How  fare  you,  sire? 

[Enter  Louis  c. 
Louis. 
In  the  same  mind  I  have 
Decided :  yes,  he  would  forbid  your  presence, 
My  brother, —  yours,  my  friend:  then,  Julie,  too: 
'I'h  warts  —  braves — defies  — 

[Suddenly  turuin^^  io  Baradas. 
We  make  you  minister, 
(iaston,  for  you  —  the  baton  of  our  armies. 
You  love  me,  do  you  not? 

Orl. 

O,  love  you,  sire! 

[Aside.\  Never  so  much  as  now. 

Bar. 

May  I  deserve 

Your  trust  [^zi'/V/f]  —  until  you  sign  your  abdication. 

My  liege,  but  one  way  left  to  daunt  De  Mauprat, 

And  Julie  to  divorce.  — We  must  prepare 

The  death-writ :  what,  tho'  signed  and  sealed  ?  we  can 

Withhold  the  enforcement. 

Louis. 
Ah,  you  may  prepare  it: 
Vv'e  need  not  urge  it  to  effect. 

Bar. 
Exactly ! 

No  haste,  my  liege.      [Aside^     He  may  live   one  hour 
longer. 

[Enter  Courtier  c. 


kICHELIKU.  79 

Com . 

The  Lady  Julie,  sire,  implores  an  audience. 

Louis. 

Alia!  repentant  of  her  folly!  —  Well, 
A  I  in  it  her. 

Bar. 

Sire,  she  comes  for  Mauprat  's  pardon. 
And  the  conditions 

Louis. 
You  are  minister, 
We  leave  to  you  our  answer. 

[  The  Captain  of  the  Guard  enters  L.  and  whispers 
to  Baradas,  who  has  advanced  to  meet  him. 

Capt. 
The  Chevalier 
De  Mauprat  waits  below. 

Bar.  [Aside. 

Now  the  dispatch! 

[£xeh'/t  Baradas  and  Captain  L.    E?iter  Julie  c 

Julie. 

My  liege,  you  sent  for  me.     I  come  where  grief 
Should  come  when  guiltless,  while  the  name  of  king 
Is  holy  on  the  earth.     Here,  at  the  feet 
Of  power,  I  kneel  for  mercy. 

Lotiis. 
Mercy,  Julie, 

Is  an  affair  of  state.     The  Cardinal  should 
In  this  be  your  interpreter. 

Julie. 
Alas! 

I  know  not  if  that  mighty  si)irit  now 
Stoops  to  the  things  of  earth.     Nay,  while  I  speak, 
Perchance  he  hears  the  orphan  by  the  throne 


So  kiCHKI.IEL'. 

Where  kings  themselves  need  pardon.  —  O,  my  liege, 
Be  father  to  the  fatherless :  in  you 
Dwells  my  last  hope. 

[£/i/er  Baradas  v. 
Bar.  \Asuh. 

He  has  not  the  dispatch; 

Smiled  while  we  searched,  and  braves  me. 

Louis.  [Gently. 

What  wouldst  thou  ? 

Julie. 

A  single  life.     You  reign  o'er  millions;  what 

Is  one  man's  life  to  you?  and  yet  to  me 

'Tis  France — 'tis  earth  —  'tis  everything! — a  life, 

A  human  life  —  my  husband's. 

Louis. 
[Aside  to  Baradas,  who  has  quietly  approached  r. 
Speak  to  her. 
I  am  not  marble:  give  her  hope — or [Exit  Louis  c. 

Bar.  [  To  Julie. 

Madam, 

Vex  not  your  king,  whose  heart,  too  soft  for  justice, 
Leaves  to  his  ministers  that  solemn  charge. 

Julie. 
You  were  his  friend. 

Bar. 
I  was,  before  I  loved  thee. 

Julie. 
Loved  me! 

Bar. 

Hush,  JuUe!  couldst  thou  misinterpret 

My  acts,  thoughts,  motives,  nay,  my  very  words, 

Here  —  in  this  palace? 


RICHELIEU.  8l 

Julie. 
Now  I  know  I  'm  mad : 
Even  that  memory  failed  me. 

Bar. 
1  am  young, 

Well-born  and  brave  as  Mauprat: — for  thy  sake 
I  peril  what  he  has  not  —  fortune — power; 
All  to  great  souls  most  dazzling.     I  alone 
Can  save  thee  from  thy  tyrant,  now  my  puppet. 
Be  mine :  annul  the  mockery  of  this  marriage, 
And,  on  the  day  I  clasp  thee  to  my  breast, 
De  Mauprat  shall  be  free. 

Julie. 
Thou  durst  not  speak 
Thus  in  his  ear ! 

\Pointing  to  Louis,  who  is  seen,  passi/ig,  at  back, 
with  Odeans. 
Thou  double  traitor!  — tremble  ! 
I  will  unmask  thee. 

Bar. 
I  will  say  thou  ravest. 

And,  see  this  scroll:  its  letters  shall  be  blood! 
Go  to  the  king,  count  with  me  word  for  word: 
And  while  you  pray  the  life  —  I  write  the  sentence ! 

[  Goes  to  tabk  R. 

Julie. 

Stay,  stay.  \Rushing  to  the  king,  who  enters  c. 

You  have  a  kind  and  princely  heart, 
Tho'  sometimes  it  is  silent:  you  were  born 
To  power — it  has  not  flushed  you  into  madness, 
As  it  doth  meaner  men.     Banish  my  husband — 
Dissolve  our  marriage  —  cast  me  to  that  grave 
Of  human  ties,  where  hearts  congeal  to  ice. 
In  the  dark  convent's  everlasting  winter 
(Surely  eno'  for  justice,  hate,  revenge). 
But  spare  this  life,  thus  lonely,  scathed,  and  bloomless; 
And  when  thou  stand'st  for  judgment  on  thine  own, 
The  deed  shall  shine  beside  thee  as  an  angel. 
6 


82 


RICHELIEU. 


Louis.  \Much  affiited. 

Go,  go,  to  Baradas:  and  annul  thy  marriage. 

And 

Julie. 

[A/ixic//s/r,  and  7vatchin^  his  counhiiaiue. 
Be  his  bride? 

Louis. 

A  form,  a  mere  decorum; 
Thou  knovv'st  I  love  thee. 

Julie. 
O,  thou  sea  of  shame, 
And  not  one  star. 

[  The  kin^^  goes  up  the  stage,  and  passes   out   c. 
/"//  evident  emotion. 

Bar.  [Adzumees 

Well,  thy  election,  Julie: 
This  hand  —  his  grave! 

Julie. 
His  grave!  and  1 

Bar. 
Can  save  him. 
Swear  to  be  mine. 

Julie. 

That  were  a  bitterer  death ! 

Avaunt,  thou  tempter!     I  did  ask  his  life 

A  boon,  and  not  the  barter  of  dishonour. 

The  heart  can  break,  and  scorn  you  :  wreak  your  malice ; 

Adrian  and  I  will  leave  you  this  sad  earth. 

And  pass  together  hand  in  hand  to  heaven. 

Bar. 

You  have  decided.     Listen  to  me,  lady  : 
I  am  no  base  intriguer.     I  adored  thee 
From  the  first  glance  of  those  inspiring  eyes : 
With  thee  entwined  ambition,  hope,  the  future. 


RICHELIEU.  83 

I  will  not  lose  thee !     I  can  place  thee  nearest — 
Ay,  to  the  throne — nay,  on  the  throne,  perchance : 
My  star  is  at  its  zenith.     Look  upon  me; 
Hast  thou  decided  ? 

Julie. 
No,  no ;  you  can  see 
How  weak  I  am;  be  human,  sir — one  moment. 

Bar. 

\Signals  by  stamping.     Enter  De  Mauprat.,   ivitk 
guards  l. 
Behold  thy  husband :  shall  he  pass  to  death, 
And  know  thou  couldst  have  saved  him  ? 

Jtilie. 
Adrian,  speak! 

But  say  you  wish  to  live!  —  if  not  your  wife 
Your  slave :  do  with  me  as  you  will ! 

De  Maup. 
Once  more !  — 

Why  this  is  mercy,  count!     O,  think,  my  Julie, 
Life,  at  the  best,  is  short — but  love  immortal! 

Bar.  [  Taking  Julie's  hand. 

Ah,  loveliest 

Julie. 

(to  !  that  touch  has  made  me  iron ! 
We  have  decided  —  death! 

Bar.  {To  De  Mauprat, 

Now,  say  to  whom 
Thou  gavest  the  packet,  and  thou  yet  shalt  live.  * 

De  Maup. 
I  '11  tell  thee  nothing. 

Bar. 
Hark, —  the  rack  ! 


34  RlCHELltU. 

De  Mmip. 
Thy  penance 
Forever,  wretch  !  —  What  rack  is  hke  the  conscience  ? 

Bar. 
Hence  to  the  headsman ! 

\^Enter  a  Page  c.   He  ajinoutues  : 

Page. 

His  Eminence,  the  Cardinal,  Due  de  Richelieu. 

[Enter  Richeiieu  c,  ver)'  feeble,  leaning  on  Joseph, 
attended  l>y  gentlemen, pages,  etc.,  and  fol/oived  by 
three  secretaries  of  state,  with  papers. 

Julie.         [Rushing  to  Richelieu. 
You  live  —  you  live  —  and  Adrian  shall  not  die! 

Rich. 

Not  if  an  old  man's  prayers,  himself  near  death. 
Can  aught  avail  thee,  daughter!     Count,  you  now 

[  To  Baradas. 
Hold  what  I  held  on  earth:  —  one  boon,  my  lord, 
This  soldier's  life. 

Bar. 

The  stake — my  head!  —  you  said  it. 

I  cannot  lose  one  trick.     Remove  your  prisoner. 

[  To  officer. 
Julie. 
No!  — No!  — 

[Enter  Louis  and  Courtiers  c. 

Rich.  [  To  officer. 

Hold,  sir. 

[  To  the  king 
My  liege. 

Your  worn-out  servant,  willing  to  spare  you 
Some  pain  of  conscience,  would  forestall  your  wishes: 
I  do  resign  my  office. 

All. 
You! 


All 's  over. 


RICHELIEU.  85 

Julie. 
Rich. 


My  end  draws  near.     These  sad  ones,  sire,  I  love  them ; 
I  do  not  ask  his  Hfe  ;  but  suffer  justice 
To  halt,  until  I  can  dismiss  his  soul, 
Charged  with  an  old  man's  blessing. 


Surely ! 
Sire 


Louis. 
Bar. 


Louis. 
Silence :  small  favour  to  a  dying  servant. 

Rich. 

You  would  consign  your  armies  to  the  baton 

Of  your  most  honoured  brother.     Sire,  so  be  it. 

Your  minister,  the  Count  de  Baradas; 

A  most  sagacious  choice !     Your  secretaries 

Of  state  attend  me,  sire,  to  render  up 

The  ledgers  of  a  realm. —  I  do  beseech  you. 

Suffer  these  noble  gentlemen  to  learn 

The  nature  of  the  glorious  task  that  waits  them, 

Here,  in  my  presence. 

Lx)ids. 
You  say  well,  my  lord. 

[  To  secretaries,  as  he  seats  himself  on  throne. 
Approach,  sirs. 

[  The  secretaries  advance  and  kneel 

Rich. 

I  —  I  —  faint ! —  air — air — 

( De  Mauprat  assists  Richelieu  to  a  sofa  l. 
I  thank  you:  draw  near,  my  children. 


86  RICHELIEU. 

Bar. 

He's  too  weak  to  cjuestion; 

Nay,  scarce  to  speak;  all's  safe. 

\JuHe  kneels  beside  the  Cardinal.  Joseph  stands 
near  Richelieu^  ^catching  the  king.  Baradas 
near  the  h'n^i^'s  chair.  A  page  takes  papers  from 
the  secretaries  and  gives  them  to  Louis. 

First  Sec. 
The  affairs  of  Portugal, 

Most  urgent,  sire:  —  One  short  month  since  the  Due 
Braganza  was  a  rebel. 

Louis. 
And  is  still. 

First  Sec. 

No,  sire;  he  has  succeeded;  he  is  now 

Crowned  king  of  Portugal;  craves  instant  succour 

Against  the  arms  of  Spain. 

Louis. 
[Louis  looks  carelessly  at  papers  and  gives  them  to 
Baradas. 
We  will  not  grant  it 
Against  his  lawful  king.     Eh,  count  ? 

Bar. 

No,  sire. 

First  Sec. 

But  Spain 's  your  deadliest  foe :  whatever 
Can    weaken  Spain  must   strengthen    France.     The  Car- 
dinal 
Would  send  the  succours; — balance,  sire,  of  Europe  ! 

Louis. 
The  Cardinal !  balance  !     We  'U  consider.     Eh,  count  ? 

Bar. 
Yes,  sire  :   [  To  Secretary]  fall  back. 


But- 


O  !  fall  back,  sir. 


Humph  ! 


RICHELIEU.  87 

First  Sec. 

Bar. 

\Secretary  rises,  and  retires. 

Jos. 
Second  Sec. 


The  affairs  of  England,  sire,  most  urgent :  Charles 

The  First  has  lost  a  battle  that  decides 

One-half  his  realm;  craves  moneys,  sire,  and  succour. 

Lotiis. 
He  shall  have  both. —  Eh,  Baradas  ? 

Bar. 
Yes,  sire. 

0  that  dispatch !  —  my  veins  are  fire ! 

mch. 

[Feebly,  but  with  great  distinctness. 
My  liege. 

Forgive  me ;  Charles's  cause  is  lost :  a  man, 
Named  Cromwell,  risen :  a  great  man !  your  succour 
Would  fail ;  your  loans  be  squandered !     Pause :  reflect. 

Louis. 
Reflect.     Eh,  Baradas  ? 

Bar. 

Reflect,  sire. 

Jos. 
Humph  ! 

Louis.  [Aside. 

1  half  repent !     No  successor  to  Richelieu. 
Round  me  thrones  totter;  dynasties  dissolve: 
The  soil  he  guards  alone  escapes  the  earthquake. 


88  RICHELIEU. 

Jos. 

Our  star  not  yet  eclipsed:  you  mark  the  king  ? 
O  had  we  the  dispatch  ! 

Rich. 
Ah  !  Joseph  !  —  child  — 
Would  1  could  help  thee ! 

Bar.  [  To  Secretary. 

Sir,  fall  back. 

But 

Pshaw,  sir! 


Second  Sec. 
Bar. 

Third  Sec. 


[Secretary  retires 


The  secret  correspondence,  sire,  most  urgent: 
Accounts  of  spies;  deserters;  heretics; 
Poisoners;  schemes  against  yourself. 

Louis. 
Myself!  most  urgent! 

[Louis  looks  at  this  document  eagerly.  Enter  Fran- 
(ois  c.  He  passes  behind  the  Cardinal's  attend- 
ants, and,  sheltered  by  them  from  the  sight  oj 
Baradas,  gives  packet  to  Richelieu. 

Fran. 

My  lord ! 

I  have  not  failed  I 

Rich. 
Hush ! 

[Opens packet  and  looks  at  its  contents. 

Third  Sec.  [To  thi  king. 

Sire,  the  Spaniards 

Hav?  reinforced  their  army  on  the  frontiers. 
The  Due  de  Bouillon • 


RICHELIEU.  89 

Rich. 

Hold!  \Secreta}y  retires^     In  this  department,    \To Louis^ 
A  paper:  here,  sire,  read  yourself;  then  take 
The  count's  advice  in 't. 

\^Fran(ois  takes  packet  and  gives  it  to  the  king, 
who  rises  and  goes  L.  At  same  time  enter  De 
Beringhen  hastily,  draws  aside  Baradas,  and 
whispers  to  him. 

Bar. 

[Starting  wildly  away  fro fn  De  Beringhen. 
What !  and  reft  it  from  thee  ? 
Ha!  — hold! 

\Tries  to  intercept  delivery  of  the  packet. 

Jos.  [  To  Baradas. 

Fall  back,  son.     It  is  your  turn  now  ! 

Bar. 

Death  !  —  the  dispatch  ! 

Louis.  '[Reading. 

To  Bouillon  —  and  signed  Orleans! 
Baradas,  too:  league  with  our  foes  of  Spain! 
Capture  the  king!  —  Saints  of  heaven  ! 
These  are  the  men  I  loved ! 

[Richelieu  falls  back,  apparently  fainting. 

Jos. 
See  to  the  Cardinal ! 

Bar. 
He  's  dying !  and  I  yet  shall  dupe  the  king. 

Louis.         [Rushing  to  Richelieu. 

Richelieu  !     Lord  Cardinal !  't  is  I  resign ! 
Reign  thou ! 

Jos. 
Alas !  too  late  !  —  he  faints ! 


90  KICHEIJEU. 

Louis. 
Reign,  Richelieu! 

Rich.  {Feebly. 

Witli  absolute  power? 

Louis. 
Most  absolute!  —  O,  live  ! 
If  not  for  me  —  for  France ! 

Rich.        [  With  more  auiimxliou 
France ! 

Louis. 
O  !  this  treason  ! 
The  army  —  Orleans  —  Bouillon — Heaven!     the    Span- 

jard ! 
Where  will  they  be  next  week  ? 

\^As  Louis  turns  tmoant  the  throne  c.  he  euiounters 
Baradas,  kneeling  \  he  motions  him  away  and 
falls  into  his  seat.    Baradas  rises  and  goes  to  R. 

Rich. 

[Starting  up,  and  with  force. 
There, — at  my  feet! 

\All  show  amazement  at  Richelieu'' s  recovery. 
[  To  First  ami  Second  Secretaries. 
Ere  the  clock  strike  —  the  envoys  have  their  answer ! 

\First  and  Second  Secretaries  exeunt. 
[  To  Third  Secretary,  with  a  ring. 
This  to  De  Chavigny :  he  knows  the  rest : 
No  need  of  jjarchment  here :  he  must  not  halt 
For  sleep  —  for  food. —  In  my  name, —  mine  —  he  will 
Arrest  the  Due  de  Bouillon  at  the  head 
Of  his  army !  —  Ho  !  there,  Count  de  Baradas, 

\Exit  Third  Secretary. 
Thou  hast  lost  the  stake !  — Away  with  him  !  ^9 

\Baradas  draws  sword ;  attempts  to  rush  out ;  is 

arrested  J-    throws   doivn    sword ;  hows    to   the 

king;  and  goes  out  guarded. 

Embrace  your  husband !  [  To  Julie. 

[De  Mauprat  and  Julie  embrace. 

At  last  the  old  man  blesses  you ! 


RICHELIEU.  qi 

Louis.  \Ironically. 

One  moment  makes  a  startling  cure,  lord  Cardinal.  ^ ' 

Rich. 

Yes,  Sire,  for  in  that  moment  there  did  pass 

Into  this  withered  frame  the  might  of  France ! 

My    own  dear  France !    I  have  thee   yet:   I  have  saved 

thee ! 
I  clasp  thee  still !   it  was  thy  voice  that  called  me 
Back  from  the  tomb !     What  mistress  like  our  country  ? 

Louis. 

For  Mauprat's  pardon  —  well!     But  Julie, —  Richelieu  : 
Leave  me  one  thing  to  love ! 

Rich. 
A  subject's  luxury : 
Yet,  if  you  must  love  something,  sire  —  love  me! 

Louis. 

[Smiling,  in  spite  of  himself. 
Fair  proxy  for  a  young,  fresh  demoiselle ! 

Rich. 

Your  heart  speaks  for  my  clients :  —  kneel,  my  children, 
And  thank  your  king  — 

\De  Mauprat  and  Julie  kneel.  De  Beriu'^hen 
attempts  to  go  out  c,  but  is  met  by  Joseph  .^  ivho 
p7'events  hitn. 

Louis. 
Rise  — rise  —  be  happy. 

\De  Beringhen  advatices  and  speaks. 

De  Ber.  [Falteringly . 

My  lord  —  you  are  most  happily  recovered. 


g2  RICHELIEU. 

But  you  are  pale,  dear  Beringhen :  this  air 

Suits  not  your  delicate  frame:   I  long  have  thought  so: 

Sleep  not  another  night  in  Paris:  go, — 

Or  else  your  precious  life  may  be  in  danger. 

Leave  France,  dear  Beringhen.       [Or/eaus  kneels  to  Louis. 

De  Ber. 
St.  Denis  travelled  without  his  head! 
Faith,  Fm  luckier  than  St.  Denis ! 
I  shall  have  time, 
More  than  I  asked  for,  to  discuss  the  pate. 

\Exit  De  Beringhen  c. 

Rich.  [To  Orleans. 

For  you,  repentance,  absence  and  confession. 

[  Orleans  goes  out  c.      To  Francois,  who  kneels  L. 
Never  say  fail  again.     Brave  boy ! 

[  To  Joseph  L. 
He'll  be  — 
A  bishop  first. 

Jos. 
Ah,  Cardinal  — 

Rich. 
Ah,  Joseph. 

\To   Louis ^  as  De   Mauprat  and  Julie   converse 
apart. 
See,  my  liege,  through  plots  and  counterjjlots. 
Through  gain  and  loss,  through  glory  and  disgrace, 
Along  the  plains  where  passionate  discord  rears 
Eternal  Babel,  still  the  holy  stream 
Of  human  happ'.ness  glides  on. 

Dmis. 
And  must  we 
Thank,  for  that  also,  our  prime  minister  ? 

Rich. 
No  —  let  us  own  it:  —  there  is  One  above 
Sways  the  harmonious  mystery  of  the  world 
Better  than  prime  ministers. 

CURTAIN. 


RICHELIEU. 

APPENDIX. 
I.— The  Drama  and  Character  of  Richelieu. 
<<  y^V  ICHELIEU  "  stands  in  the  front  rank  of  romantic  dramas.  It 
r^  tells  a  story  of  perspicuous  simplicity,  yet  of  enthralling 
interest.  It  presents  clearly  defined  characters  in  natural 
relations  to  each  other.  It  is  vitalized  by  a  steady  dramatic  movement, 
that  increases  in  force  and  sj>eed  till  it  reaches  an  electrical  climax  and 
a  beautiful  culmination.  It  is  adequately  freighted  —  without  being 
burdened  —  with  situations  that  e.xcite  the  imagination  and  touch  the 
heart.  Its  spirit  is  sympathetic  with  virtue  and  gentleness,  and,  there- 
fore, it  captivates  the  general  instincts  of  human  nature.  Above  all,  it 
is  imaginative :  it  idealizes  reality,  and  does  not  weary  by  presenting 
character  and  experience  in  the  garb  of  prosy  fact.  Viewed  as  an  ideal 
fabric,  it  is  a  drama  without  serious  defect.  Its  salient  blemish  is  one 
of  literary  art:  that  is  to  say,  there  is  some  tinsel  in  its  language  —  an 
infusion  of  the  paste-diamond  element  that  is  peculiar  to  most  of  Bulwer's 
works.  But,  little  faults  dwindle  to  nothing  alongside  of  great  merits. 
"  Richelieu  "  is  a  play  that  constantly  affords  pleasure,  by  procuring  and 
extolling — under  deeply  interesting  and  highly  picturesque  conditions 
of  circumstance  —  the  victory  of  good  over  evil.  To  have  written  a 
drama  which  thus  makes  its  spectators  happier  and  better  for  their  seeing 
of  it,  is  to  have  deserved  the  gratitude  of  the  world.  Considerate 
judgment  will  not  dwell  with  censure  upon  the  slight  defect  of  an  occa- 
sional tawdry  line  in  a  drama  so  radically  powerful  and  brilliant. 

The  character  of  Richelieu,  as  it  is  herein  portrayed,  is  higher  and 
finer  —  as  it  ought  to  be  —  than  that  of  the  historic  Cardinal.  Richelieu 
was  not,  in  actual  life,  the  noble  spirit  that  he  is  in  this  rosy  fiction. 
The  dramatist  has  depicted  him  as  just,  wise,  kind,  gentle,  tolerant  of 
weakness,  sympathetic  with  virtue  and  innocence,  superior  to  trials, 
steadfast  in  danger,  sensitive  to  every  sweet  and  poetic  influence,  and 


94  APPENDIX. 

only  hostile  and  bitter  when  confronted  with  tyranny  and  wrong.  The 
lower  side  of  his  nature,  to  be  sure,  is  craft :  but  it  is  the  craft  of  a 
philosopher  and  not  of  a  trickster.  When  Richelieu  uses  indirection,  it 
is  such  indirection  as  a  deep  knowledge  of  human  nature  and  of  worldly 
affairs  has  taught  him  to  be  essential  in  the  conduct  of  life  and  the 
government  of  mankind.  He  never  resorts  to  the  skin  of  the  (ox.  till  the 
skin  of  the  lion  has  proved  too  short.  In  this  drama  he  is  shown  in  the 
expenditure  of  great  powers  upon  small  affairs  —  in  the  protection  of  a 
pair  of  young  lovers,  and  in  the  defeat  of  a  political  intrigue:  but  these 
affairs  are  representative  of  what,  in  fact,  were  the  prominent  occupa- 
tions of  his  life,  and  of  what,  equally  in  fact,  are  the  universal  occupa- 
tions of  the  human  race.  Love,  fame,  wealth,  power —  these  are  at  once 
(he  sources  and  the  objects  of  all  human  action;  and  these  are  the 
elements  upon  which  the  force  of  Richelieu  is  seen  to  be  expended.  He 
is  presented  as  a  man  of  potent  intellect  and  pure  sensibility ;  and, 
notwithstanding  his  little  vanities  and  the  pettiness  of  the  designs  ainid 
which  he  moves,  his  nature  never  declines  from  a  stately  and  imperial 
individualism.  The  charm  of  the  character  grows  out  of  this  relation  of 
it  to  its  circumstances.  Richelieu  is  the  embodiment  of  virtuous  power, 
shown  in  its  grandest  phase  and  function  as  the  protector  of  innocent 
weakness.  Seeing  this  aged  priest,  as  he  rises  in  the  eye  of  the  imagina- 
tion, the  observer  instinctively  feels,  without  pausing  to  reflect  upon  it, 
that  this  is  a  grand  and  noble  old  man,  in  whom  the  affections  live  an 
immortal  life,  who  will  be  as  true  as  steel  to  all  that  is  good  and  pure, 
who  wears  with  authentic  right  the  royal  garb  of  power,  and  who  must 
as  inevitably  conquer  and  dominate  as  the  sun  must  rise.  W.  W. 


II. — Facts  in  the  Life  of  Richelieu. 

Armand  Jean  du  Plessis,  Cardinal,  and  Ducde  Richelieu,  was  born,  in 
Paris,  in  1585.  He  was  a  member  of  a  noble  family,  and  in  early  youth 
was  destined  for  the  Army;  but,  upon  his  brother's  resignation  of  the 
See  of  Lufon,  he  embraced  an  opportunity,  then  presented,  to  dedicate 
himself  to  the  service  of  the  Church.  Having  studied  theology,  at  the 
college  of  Navarre,  he  was,  in  1607,  consecrated  Bishop  of  Lugon.  His 
earlier  priestly  endeavours  were  devoted  to  the  conversion  of  the 
Huguenot  Calvinists.  In  1614  he  was  chosen  Deputy  to  the  State- 
General.  His  eloquence  attracted  notice,  and  he  was  presently  named 
almoner  to  Marie  de  Medicis,  widow  of  Henri  IV.  and  mother  to  Louis 
XIII.  A  little  later  he  became  Secretary  of  State  for  foreign  affairs 
and  for  war.     He  had  enjoyed,  for  a  time,  at  this  period  in  his  career, 


APPENDIX.  95 

the  protection  of  Marshal  d'Ancre,  the  favourite  of  the  queen  ;  but,  in 
the  commotion  which  attended  the  ruin  and  murder  of  that  minister, — 
who  was  assassinated  in  the  Louvre,  April  24th,  1617, —  the  star  of 
his  fortunes  suffered  a  temporary  eclipse.  He  was  banished  to 
Lugon,  and  afterwards  to  Avignon,  where  he  devoted  his  talents  to 
the  writing  of  theological  treatises.  But  he  was  presently  fortunate 
enough  to  effect  a  formal  reconciliation  between  Louis  Xlll.  and  the 
queen ;  and  in  1622,  at  the  age  of  37,  he  was  created  Cardinal.  Two 
years  later  he  became  Prim^  Minister  of  France.  His  government  was 
characterized  by  great  power  and  splendour,  and  by  marvellous  success. 
He  waged  a  deadly  war  against  the  Huguenots,  and  utterly  subdued 
them.  His  siege  and  capture  of  Rochelle,  in  1628,  was  an  incident  of 
this  war.  In  1635  he  founded  the  French  Academy.  The  chief  work 
of  his  life  was  the  maintenance  of  French  supremacy  in  the  affairs  of 
continental  Europe,  by  resistance  to  the  encroachments  of  the  [Austrian] 
House  of  Hapsburg.  He  built  the  Palais  Cardinal,  now  called  the 
Palais  Royal, — which  is,  in  part,  the  scene  of  Bulwer's  drama, —  and  he 
rebuilt  and  beautified  the  College  of  Sorbonne.  Several  conspiracies 
were  formed  against  the  Cardinal ;  but  his  force  of  character,  his 
sagacity,  and  his  tremendous  energy  of  purpose  and  action  thwarted 
and  subdued  them  all.  The  day  on  which  Richelieu  discomfited  one  of 
the  most  formidable  of  these  plots  —  in  which  the  king  was  a  participant 
—  was  called  the  Day  of  Dupes;  from  the  fact  that  all  the  persons 
concerned  in  it  were  duped  by  the  sagacious  and  expeditious  Cardinal. 
Richelieu  died  on  the  4th  of  December,  1642.  He  had  named  Cardinal 
Mazarin  as  his  successor.  The  studant  is  referred  to  three  lives  of  this 
famous  statesman:  by  Aubrey,  1660;  by  John  Le  Clerc,  1718;  and  by 
Joy,  1806.  W.  W. 

III. — The  Author's  Preface  to  Richelieu. 

The  administration  of  Cardinal  Richelieu  —  whom,  despite  all  his 
darker  qualities,  Voltaire  and  history  justly  consider  the  true  architect  of 
the  French  monarchy,  and  the  great  parent  of  French  civilization  —  is 
characterized  by  features  alike  tragic  and  comic.  A  weak  king,  an 
ambitious  favourite  ;  a  despicable  conspiracy  against  the  Minister,  nearly 
always  associated  with  a  dangerous  treason  against  the  State;  —  these, 
with  little  variety  of  names  and  dates,  constitute  the  eventful  cycle 
tiirough  which,  with  a  dazzling  ease  and  an  arrognnt  confidence,  the 
great  luminary  fulfilled  its  destinies.  Blent  together,  in  startling 
contrast,  we  see  the  grandest  achievements  an  J  tha  pettiest  agents  —  the 


g6  APPENDIX. 

spy  —  the  mistress  —  the  capuchin  :  —  the  destruction  of  feudalism  —  the 
humiliation  of  Austria  —  the  dismemberment  of  Spain. 

Richelieu  himself  is  still  what  he  was  in  his  own  day  —  a  man  of  two 
characters.  If,  on  the  one  hand,  he  is  justly  represented  as  inflexible 
and  vindictive,  crafty  and  unscrupulous;  so,  on  the  other,  it  cannot 
be  denied  that  he  was  placed  in  times  in  which  the  long  impunity 
of  every  license  required  stern  examples ;  that  he  was  beset  by  perils 
and  intrigues  which  gave  a  certain  excuse  to  the  subtlest  inventions  of 
self-defense ;  that  his  ambition  was  inseparably  connected  with  a 
passionate  love  for  the  glory  of  his  country ;  and  that,  if  he  was  her 
dictator,  he  was  not  less  her  benefactor.  It  has  been  fairly  remarked,  by 
the  most  impartial  historians,  that  he  was  no  less  generous  to  merit 
than  severe  to  crime ;  that,  in  the  various  departments  of  the  State,  the 
Army,  and  the  Church,  he  selected  and  distinguished  the  ablest  aspir- 
ants ;  that  the  wars  which  he  conducted  were,  for  the  most  part, 
essential  to  the  preservation  of  France,  and  Eiu-ope  itself,  from  the 
formidable  encroachments  of  the  Austrian  House ;  that,  in  spite  of 
those  wars,  the  j)eople  were  not  oppressed  with  exorbitant  imposts  ;  and 
that  he  left  the  kingdom  he  had  governed  in  a  more  flourishing  and 
vigorous  state  than  at  any  former  period  of  the  French  history,  or  at  the 
decease  of  Louis  XIV. 

The  cabals  formed  against  this  great  statesman  were  not  carried  on 
by  the  patriotism  of  public  virtue  nor  the  emulation  of  equal  talent : 
they  were  but  court  stniggles,  in  which  the  most  worthless  agents  had 
recourse  to  the  most  desperate  means.  In  each,  as  I  have  before 
observed,  we  see  combined  the  twofold  attempt  to  murder  the  minister 
and  to  betray  the  country.  Such,  then,  are  the  agents,  and  such  the 
designs  with  which  truth,  in  the  drama  as  in  history,  requires  us  to 
contrast  the  celebrated  Cardinal ;  not  disguising  his  foibles  or  his  vices, 
but  not  unjust  to  the  grander  qualities  —  especially  the  love  of  country 
—  by  which  they  were  often  dignified,  and,  at  times,  redeemed. 

The  historical  drama  is  the  concentration  of  historical  events.  In  the 
attempt  to  place  upon  the  stage  the  picture  of  an  era,  that  license  with 
dates  and  details  which  poetry  permits,  and  which  the  highest  authori- 
ties in  the  drama  of  France  herself  have  sanctioned,  has  been,  though 
not  unsparingly,  indulged.  The  conspiracy  of  the  Due  de  Bouillon  is, 
for  instance,  amalgamated  with  the  denouemeiit  of  the  Day  of  Dupes  ;  and 
circumstances  connected  with  the  treason  of  Cinq-Mars — whose  brilliant 
youth  and  gloomy  catastrophe  tend  to  subvert  poetic  and  historic  justice, 
by  seducing  us  to  forget  his  base  ingratitude  and  his  perfidious  apostacy  — 
are   identified  with   tlie  fate  of  the  earlier   favourite,    Baradas,   whos9 


APPEimtx.  97 

sudden  rise  and  as  sudden  fall  passed  into  a  prov^  rb.  I  uught  to  add 
that  the  noble  romance  of  "  Cinq-Mars  "  suggested  one  of  the  scenes  in 
the  fifth  act ;  and  that  for  the  conception  of  some  portion  of  the  intrigue 
connected  with  De  Mauprat  and  Julie,  I  am,  with  great  alterations  of 
incident,  and  considerable  if  not  entire  reconstruction  of  character, 
indebted  to  an  early  and  admirable  novel  by  the  author  of  "  Picciola." 
London,  March,  i8jg.  E.  L.  B. 

IV. — Historical  Hints  for  Richelieu. 

The  Count  de  Soissons  and  the  Duke  de  Bouillon  had  a  good  army, 
and  they  knew  how  to  use  it ;  and,  for  the  greater  certainty,  resolved  that, 
whilst  this  army  should  advance,  they  would  assassinate  the  Cardinal, 
and  stir  up  Paris  to  revolt.  *  *  *  The  conspirators  made  a  treaty 
with  Spain  to  introduce  her  troops  into  France,  and  to  throw  everything 
into  confusion  by  a  Regency,  which  they  thought  would  follow,  and  by 
which  each  one  hoped  to  profit.  *  ^^  *  Richelieu  had  lost  all  his 
favour,  and  retained  only  the  advantage  of  being  necessary.  His  good 
fortune  ordained,  at  the  last,  that  the  plot  should  be  discovered,  and 
that  a  copy  of  the  treaty  should  fall  into  his  hands. — Voltaire. 

V. — Notes  to  Richelieu. 

1  Epistemon  speaks  of  Cleopatra  as  a  crier  of  onions  in  the  other  world. 
"  Her  kingdom  produced  exceeding  good  ones,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
Israelites.  Besides,  of  the  two  pearls  of  inestimable  price  whicli 
that  queen  owned,  she,  having  caused  her  lover  Antony  to  swallow 
one,  dissolved  in  vinegar,  intended  to  regale  him  with  the  second,  if 
she  had  not  been  hindered.  Perhaps  it  was  by  way  of  punishment  for 
this  prodigality  that  she  is  reduced  to  sell  onions  —  that  is,  such  fruit  as 
the  Latins  call  unions,  a  sort  of  onions — as  well  as  pearls." — Rabelais. 

2  Daphne  was  loved  and  pursued  by  .Apollo :  when  on  the  point  of 
being  overtaken  by  him  she  prayed  for  aid,  and  was  instantly  metamor 
phosed  into  a  laurel  tree. 

3  Olivares,  Minister  of  Spain. 

4  In  six  months  the  King  made  Baradas  "First  Esquire,"  "First 
Gentleman  of  the  Chamber,"  "Captain  of  St.  Germain,"  and  "Lieut, 
nf  the  King  in  Champagne."  In  still  less  time  he  was  turned  out  of  all, 
and  the  ruins  of  his  grandeur  left  him  hardly  enough  to  pay  his  debts. 
His  sudden  rise  and  as  sudden  fall  passed  into  a  proverb,  so  that  we  say, 
to  signify  a  great  fortune  dissipated  as  soon  as  acquired,  in  common 
p.irl.-rnce — "  The  fortune  of  Baradas." — Anquetil. 

7 


qS  appendix. 

s  Richelieu  did,  in  fact,  so  thoroughly  associate  himself  with  the  State, 
that,  in  cases  where  the  extreme  penalty  of  the  law  had  been  incurred, 
Lc  Clerc  justly  observes,  he  was  more  inexorable  to  those  he  had 
favoured  —  even  to  his  own  connections —  than  to  other  and  more  indif- 
ferent offenders.  As  in  Venice  (where  the  favourite  aphorism  was, 
"Venice  first,  Christianity  next")  so  with  Richelieu;  the  primary  con- 
sideration was,  "  what  will  be  best  for  the  country  ?  "'  On  his  death-bed 
he  was  asked  if  he  forgave  his  enemies.  He  replied,  "  I  never  had  any 
but  those  of  the  State."  And  this  was  true  enough,  for  Richehcu  and 
the  State  were  one. 

*  There  arc  many  anecdotes  of  the  irony,  often  so  terrible,  in  which 
Richelieu  indulged.  But  he  had  a  love  for  humour  in  its  more  hearty 
and  genial  shape.  He  would  send  for  Hoisrobcrt  "  to  make  him  laugh," 
and  grave  ministers  and  magnates  waited  in  the  ante-room  while  the 
great  Cardinal  listened  and  responded  to  the  sallies  of  the  lively  wit. 

7  The  A\>b6  Arnaud  tells  us  that  the  (luecn  was  a  little  avenged  on  the 
Cardinal  by  the  ill-success  of  the  tragic  comedy  of  "  Mirame"—  more  than 
susi^ected  to  be  his  own,  though  presented  to  the  world  under  the  foster 
name  of  Desmarets.  Its  representation  (says  Pelisson),  cost  him  300,000 
crowns.  He  was  so  transported  out  of  himself  by  the  performance  that 
at  one  time  he  thrust  his  person  half  out  of  his  box  to  show  himself  to 
the  assembly  ;  at  another  time  he  imposed  silence  on  the  audience  that 
they  might  not  lose  the  still  more  beautiful  passages.  He  said  after- 
wards to  Desmarets:  "After  all,  the  French  will  never  have  any  taste  — 
they  were  not  pleased  with  Mirame  !  " 

8  Vialart  remarque  une  chose  qui  peut  exi)liquer  la  condiiite  de 
Richelieu  en  d'autres  circonstances :  c'est  que  les  seigneurs  a  cjui 
Icur  naissance  ou  leur  m^rite  pouvoit  permettre  des  pretensions,  11  avoil 
pour  systfeme,  de  leur  accorder  au  de  la  meme  de  leurs  droits  ct  de 
Icur  esperances,  mais,  aussi  une  fois  comblds  —  si,  au  lieu  de  reconnoitre 
ses  services  ils  se  levoient  contre  lui,  il  les  traitot  misericorde. — Anque- 
TiL.  See  also  the  "Political  Testament,"  and  the  "  Memoires  de 
Cardinal  Richelieu,"  in  Petitot's  collection. 

9  "So  much  a  famitic,  so  muck  a  knave,  founder  of  the  '  Religieuses  '  of 
Calvary,  a  maker  of  verses."  Thus  speaks  Voltaire  of  Father  Joseph. 
His  talents  and  influence  with  Richelieu,  grossly  exaggerated  in  his  own 
day,  are  now  rightly  estimated.  He  w-as,  in  fact,  an  indefatigable  man  ; 
carrying  with  his  enterprizes  the  activity,  the  suppleness,  the  stubborn- 
ness necessary  to  make  them  succeed. — .\nquetii,.  He  wrote  a  Latin 
poem  called  "  La  Turciade,"  in  which  he  sought  to  excite  the  kingdoms 
of  Christians  against  the  Turks.     But  the  inspiration  of  Tyrta>us  was 


Appendix.  ^9 

denied  to  Father  Joseph.  His  hair  was  fed  ;  but  for  fear  of  displeasing 
the  King,  who  detested  red  hair,  he  used  leaden  combs,  which  gave  it  a 
dark  color. 

•°  Richelieu  was  commonly  supposed,  though  I  cannot  say  I  find 
much  evidence  for  it,  to  have  been  too  presuming  in  an  interview  with 
Anne  of  Austria  (the  Queen),  and  to  have  bitterly  resented  thj  contempt 
she  expressed  for  him. 

1'  Richelieu  not  only  employed  the  lowest,  but  would  often  consult 
men  commonly  esteemed  the  dullest.  "  He  said  that,  in  matters  of  the 
greatest  importance,  he  had  found,  by  experiment,  that  the  least  wise 
often  suggested  the  best  expedients." — Le  Clerc. 

12  Both  Richelieu  and  Joseph  were  originally  intended  for  the  pro- 
fession of  arms.  Joseph  had  served,  before  he  obeyed  the  spiritual 
inspiration  to  become  a  Capuchin.  The  death  of  his  brother  opened  to 
Richelieu  the  Bishopric  of  Lugon  ;  but  his  military  propensities  were  as 
strong  as  his  priestly  ambition.  I  need  scarcely  add  that  the  Cardinal, 
during  his  brilliant  campaign  in  Italy,  marched  at  the  head  of  his  troops, 
in  complete  armour.  It  was  under  his  administration  that  occurred  the 
last  example  of  proclaiming  war  by  the  chivalric  defiance  of  herald 
and  cartel. 

'3  Richelieu  valued  himself  much  on  his  personal  activity  ;  for  Ids 
vanity  was  as  universal  as  his  ambition.  A  nobleman  at  the  house  of 
Grammont  one  day  found  him  employed  in  jumping,  and,  with  all  the 
iai'oir  vivre  of  a  Frenchman  and  a  courtier,  offered  to  jump  against  him. 
He  suffered  the  Cardinal  to  jump  higher,  and  soon  after  found  himself 
rewarded  by  an  appointment.  Yet,  strangely  enough,  this  vanity  did 
not  lead  to  a  patronage  injurious  to  the  State  ;  for  never  before  in  France 
was  ability  made  so  essential  a  requisite  in  promotion.  He  was  lucky  in 
finding  the  cleverest  men  among  his  adroitest  flatterers. 

'4  Voltaire  openly  charges  Richelieu  with  being  the  lover  of  Marion 
de  Lorme.  The  great  poet  of  France,  Victor  Hugo,  has  sacrificed 
History  to  adorn  her  with  qualities  which  certainly  were  not  added  to  her 
personal  charms.  She  was  not  less  perfidious  than  beautiful.  Le  Clerc 
properly  refutes  the  accusation  of  Voltaire  against  the  discretion  of 
Richelieu ;  and  says,  very  justly,  that,  if  the  great  minister  had  the 
frailties  of  human  nature,  he  learnt  how  to  veil  them, —  at  least  when 
he  obtained  the  scarlet.  In  earlier  life  he  had  been  prone  to  gallantries 
which  a  little  prepossessed  the  King  (who  was  formal  and  decorous,  and 
threw  a  singular  coldness  into  the  few  attachments  he  permitted  to 
himself)  against  the  aspiring  intriguer.  But  these  graver  occupations 
died  away  in  the  engagement  of  higher  pursuits  or  of  darker  passions. 


lOO  APPENDIJi. 

•5  1  he  guard  attached  to  kicheheu's  person  was,  in  the  first  instance, 
fifty  soldiers,  afterward  increased  to  two  companies  of  cavalry  and 
two  hundred  musketeers.  Huguet  is,  therefore,  to  be  considered 
merely  as  the  lieutenant  of  a  small  detachment  of  this  little  army. 

'* Josephs  ambition  was  not,  however,  so  moderate;  he  refused  a 
bishopric,  and  desired  the  Cardinal's  hat,  for  which  favour  Richelieu 
openly  supplicated  the  Holy  See,  but  contrived,  somehow  or  other, 
never  to  effect  it,  although  two  ambassadors  applied  for  it  at  Rome. 

'7  Ihe  peculiar  religion  of  P^re  Joseph  may  be  illustrated  by  the 
following  anecdote:  An  officer,  whom  he  had  dismissed  upon  an  expe- 
dition into  Germany,  moved  by  conscience  at  the  orders  he  had 
received,  returned  for  further  explanations,  and  found  the  Capuchin 
disant  sa  masse.      He  approached  and  whispered:   "  Hut,  my  father,  if 

these    people    defend    themselves "      "  Kill  all,"  (Qu'on  tue  tout.) 

answered  the  good  father,  continuing  his  devotion. 

'-i  Voltaire  has  a  striking  passage  on  the  singular  fate  of  Richelieu, 
recalled  every  hour  from  his  gigantic  schemes  to  frustrate  some  miserable 
cabal  of  the  ante-room.  Richelieu  would  often  e.\claim  that  "  Six  pieds 
de  terre  (as  he  called  the  king's  cabinet)  lui  donnaient  plus  de  peine  que 
tout  le  restc  de  I'Europe."'  The  death  of  Wallenstein,  sacrificed  by  the 
Emperor  Ferdinand,  produced  a  most  lively  impression  upon  Richelieu. 
He  found  many  traits  of  comparison  between  Ferdinand  and  Louis  — 
Wallenstein  and  liimself  In  the  memoirs  —  now  regarded  by  the  best 
authorities  as  written  by  his  sanction,  and  in  great  part  by  himself — the 
great  Frenchman  bursts  (when  alluding  to  Wallenstein's  murder)  into  a 
touching  and  pathetic  anathema  on  the  misere  de  cette  vie  of  dependence 
on  jealous  and  timid  rovalty.  which  he  himself,  while  he  wrote,  sustained. 
It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  it  was  precisely  at  the  period  of  Wallenstein's 
(loath  tliat  Richelieu  obtained  from  the  king  an  augmentation  of  his 
guard. 

•9  The  fear  and  hatred  which  Richelieu  generally  inspired  were  not 
shared  by  his  dependents  and  those  about  his  person,  who  are  said  to 
have  adored  him.  His  servants  looked  upon  him  as  the  best  of 
masters. — Le  Clerc.  In  fact,  although  he  was  proud  and  choleric,  he 
was  at  the  same  time  no  less  affable  and  generous  to  those  who  served, 
tha:i  severe  to  those  who  opposed  him. 

20  In  common  with  his  contemporaries,  Richelieu  was  credulous  as 
to  the  divinations  of  astrology.  He  was  too  fortunate  a  man  not  to  be 
superstitious. 

='  Louis  XIII.  is  said  to  have  possessed  some  natural  talents,  and  in 
earlier  youth  to  have  exhibited  the  germs  of  noble  qualities  ;  but  a  blight 


ieeiiicd  to  have  passed  over  his  maturer  life.  Personally  brave,  but 
morally  timid,  always  governed,  whether  by  his  mother  or  his  minister, 
and  always  repining  at  the  yoke,— the  only  affection  amounting  to  a 
passion  that  he  betrayed  was  for  the  sports  of  the  field.  Yet  it  was  his 
crowning  weakness  (and  this  throws  a  kind  of  false  interest  over  his 
character)  to  wish  to  be  loved.  He  himself  loved  no  one.  He  suffered 
tlie  only  woman  who  seems  to  have  been  attached  to  him  to  wither  in  a 
convent ;  he  gave  up  favourite  after  favourite  to  exile  or  the  block.  When 
Richelieu  died  he  said,  coldly,  "  There  is  a  great  politician  dead  !"  And 
when  the  ill-fated,  but  unprincipled  Cinq-Mars,  whom  he  called  dear 
f.iend,  was  beheaded,  he  drew  out  his  watch  at  the  fatal  hour,  and  said, 
\vi:h  a  smile:  "I  think  at  this  moment  the  dear  friend  makes  an  ugly 
face."  Nevertheless,  his  conscience  at  times  (for  he  was  devout  and 
superstitious),  made  him  gentle,  and  his  pride  and  his  honour  would  often, 
when  least  expected,  rouse  him  into  haughty  but  brief  resistance  to  the 
despotism  under  which  he  lived. 

22  One  of  Richelieu's  severest  and  least  politic  laws  was  that  which 
made  duelling  a  capital  crime.  Never  was  the  punishment  against  the 
offence  more  relentlessly  enforced;  and  never  were  duels  so  desperate 
and  so  numerous.  The  punishment  of  death  must  be  evidently  ineffec- 
tual so  long  as  to  refuse  a  duel  is  to  be  dishonoured,  and  salong  as  men 
hold  the  doctrine,  however  wrong,  that  it  is  better  to  part  with  the  life 
that  Heaven  gave  than  with  the  honour  that  man  makes.  In  fact,  the 
greater  the  danger  he  incurred,  the  greater  was  the  punctilio  of  that 
cavalier  of  the  time  in  braving  it. 

23  In  his  Memoirs  Richelieu  gives  an  amusing  account  of  the  insolence 
and  arts  of  Baradas,  and  observes  with  indignant  astonishment  that  the 
favourite  was  never  weary  of  repeating  to  the  king  that  he  (Baradas)  would 
have  made  just  as  great  a  minister  as  Richelieu.  It  is  on  the  attachment 
of  Baradas  to  La  Cressias,  a  maid  of  honour  to  the  Queen-Mother,  of. 
wliom,  according  to  Baradas,  the  King  was  enamoured  also,  that  his 
l.jve  for  the  Julie  de  Mortemar  of  the  play  has  been  founded.  The 
secret  of  Baradas'  sudden  and  extraordinary  influence  with  the  King 
seems  to  rest  in  the  personal  adoration  which  he  professed  for  Louis, 
with  whom  he  affected  all  the  jealousy  of  a  lover,  but  whom  he  flattered 
with  the  ardent  chivalry  of  a  knight.  Even  after  his  disgrace  he  placed 
upon  his  banner,  "  Fiafvoluntas  tua." 

=4  Of  the  haughty  and  rebuking  tone  which  Richelieu  assumed  in  his 
expostulations  with  the  King,  Montesquieu  sa}s :  "He  degraded  the 
King,  but  he  made  illustrious  the  reign."  But  however  proud  and 
choleric  in  his  disputes  with  Louis,  the  Cardinal  did  not  always  disdain 


1 02  XPPENOlJi, 

recourse  to  the  arts  of  the  courtier.  Once,  after  art  angry  discussion 
with  tlie  King,  in  which,  as  usual,  Richelieu  got  the  better,  Louis,  as 
they  quitted  the  palace  together,  said,  rudely,  "Go  first — you  are  indeed 
the  King  of  France.  "  "  If  I  ])ass  out  first,"  replied  the  minister,  after  a 
moment's  hesitation,  and  with  great  adroitness,  "it  is  only  as  the 
humblest  of  your  servants;"  and  he  took  &  Jlambeau  from  one  of  the 
pages,  to  light  the  king  as  he  walked  before  him. 

=■5  According  to  the  custom  of  Louis  XIIL,  to  cause  the  arrest  of  a 
person  for  a  State  crime,  and  to  have  him  put  to  death,  was  very  nearly 
the  same  thing. — Le  Clerc. 

26  Like  Cromwell  and  Rienzi,  Richelieu  apjjears  to  have  been  easily 
moved  to  tears.  The  Queen-Mother,  who  put  the  hardest  interpretation 
on  tliat  humane  weakness  which  is  natural  with  very  excitable  tempera- 
ments, said  :  "  He  weeps  whenever  he  chooses."  It  is  recorded  of  him 
that  when  his  affairs  did  not  succeed  he  was  cast  down  auJ  frightened, 
and  when  he  had  obtained  that  which  he  desired  he  w^as  ]iroud  and 
insulting. 

=7  This  alludes  to  Hildebrand  (Gregory  VII.),  who  carried  his 
aiuhority  so  far  as  to  send  legates  into  all  the  kingdoms  of  Europe  to 
sui>43ort  his  rights. 

=8  When  Popilius  Lenas  was  sent  as  ambassador  to  Antiochus,  King 
of  Syria,  whom  the  Roman  Senate  wished  to  restrain  from  hostilities 
against  Egypt,  he  gave  tlie  King  the  letter  of  ihe  Senate,  which  he  read, 
and  promised  to  take  into  consideration.  Then,  as  Antiochus  was 
about  marching  upon  Alexandria,  I'opilius  described  wi;h  his  cano  a 
circle,  in  the  snnd,  round  the  king,  and  ordered  him  not  to  stir  out  of  it 
until  he  had  given  a  djci_ive  answer,  at  the  risk  of  Rome's  displeasure. 
This  boldness  so  frightened  Antiochus  that  he  at  once  \  ielded  to  the 
demand. 

=:»  The  jmssion  of  the  diania  requires  this  catastrophe  for  Baradas. 
He,  however,  survived  his  disgrace,  though  stripped  of  all  his  rapidly 
acquired  fortunes;  and  the  daring  that  belonged  to  his  character  won 
him  distinction  in  foreign  service.  He  returned  to  France  after  Riche- 
lieu's death,  but  never  regained  the  same  court  influence.  He  had  taken 
the  vows  of  a  Knight  of  Malta,  and  Louis  made  him  a  Prior. 

30  The  sudden  resuscitation  of  Richelieu  (not  to  strain  too  much  on  the 
real  passion  which  supports  him  in  this  scene)  is  in  conformance  with 
the  more  dissimulating  part  of  his  character.  The  extraordinary  mobility 
of  his  countenance  (latterly  so  death-like,  sav^;  when  the  mind  spoke  in 
the  features),  always  lent  itself  to  sta^e  effect  of  this  nature.  The 
Queen-Mother  said  of  him  that  she  had  so^n  him  one  moment  so  feeble, 


APPENDIX.  103 

cast-down  and  "  semi-mort,"  that  he  seemed  on  the  point  of  giving  up 
the  ghost ;  and  the  next  moment  he  would  start  up,  fu'l  of  aniination 
and  energy  

R'.it'lle,  or  Reuil,  is  a  town  of  France,  situated  at  the  foot  cf  ".lent 
\'alerien,  about  five  miles  from  Paris. 

Joseph,  the  Capuchin,  was  commonly  called  Father  Joseph.  He  was 
a  wily  intriguant,  and  rendered  much  service  to  Richelieu.  He  tiled, 
of  apoplexy,  in  1638. 

The  author's  dedication  of  "  Richelieu,"  which,  it  may  be  a:;sumcd, 
he  wished  should  accompany  every  edition  of  the  play,  is  in  the  f  jIIow- 
ing   words:   "To   the    Marquis   of  Lansdowne,    K.  G.,  &c.,   <S:c.,    this 
drama  is  inscribed,  in  tribute  to  the  talents  which  command,  and  the  ; 
qualities  which  endear,  respect." 

The  author  of  "  Picciola  "  was  Joseph  Xavier  Boniface  Saintine.  He 
was  born  at  Paris,  July  loth,  1798,  and  died  there,  January  21st,  1865. 
He  published  dramas,  poems,  and  romances,  a  collection  of  philosophical 
stories,  called  "Jonathan,  the  Visionary,"  and  a  "  History  of  the  Wars 
in  Italy."  For  "Picciola,"  his  most  popular  work,  he  received  the 
Monthyon  Prize,  in  1837.  This  novel  passed  through  ten  editions 
within  eight  years,  and  it  has  been  translated  into  several  languages. 

The  novel  of  "Cinq-Mars,"  which  is  mentioned  in  Bulwer's  preface 
to  "  Richelieu"  as,  in  part,  the  basis  of  the  piece,  was  written  by  A'fred 
Victor,  Count  de  Vigny,  a  native  of  France,  bom  at  Loche,  in  1799. 
"Cinq-Mars"  was  published  in  1826,  and  it  has  been  translated  into 
several  languages.  De  Vigny  won  a  bright  distinction,  both  as  a  poet 
and  a  novelist.  He  wrote  several  plays,  one  of  which  illustrates  the 
gloomy  fate  of  Chatterton.  De  Vigny  was  a  member  of  the  French 
Academy.     He  died  in  1863. 

Henry  Coiffier  de  Ruze,  Marquis  de  Cinq-Mars,  was  bom  in  Fiance, 
i  \  1620.  At  the  age  of  18  he  was  presented  at  the  court  of  Louis  XIII., 
by  Cardina-I  Richelieu,  and  thereafter  he  soon  became  a  favouriic  to  the 
Icing.  Ambition,  commingled  with  hatred  of  Richelieu,  presently  led 
him  to  form  a  conspiracy  against  the  Cardinal,  in  which  the  king 
himself,  and  his  brother  Gaston,  Due  d'Orleans,  partieipated.  The 
plot  miscarried  :  the  Cardinal  prevailed  :  and  Cinq-Mars  was  beheaded, 
tcjether  with  his  friend  the  Councillor  de  Thou,  at  Lyons  September 
J2th,  1642. 

Tyriaeus,  mentioned  above,  was  a  Greek  poet  of  the  7th  centurv,  B.  C. 
H"  was  a  deformed  man,  blind  of  one  eye,  and  was  a  school-mas'or. 
The  Spartan.s,  being  at  war  with  the   Mosenians,  olieying  an  oracle, 


104  APPENDIX. 

asked  tlie  Athenians  for  a  leader.  The  Atlienians  sent  to  them  Tyrtaeus, 
as  the  most  imfit  captain  that  could  be  chosen  ;  but  Tyrtrtus  so  inspired 
the  Spartans  by  his  war-songs  tiiat  they  were  victorious,  and  subdued 
their  foes.  The  fragments  of  the  poems  of  I  yrtitus  are  in  Gaisford's 
"  Poeta;  Minores  Greci,"  translated  into  English  verse  by  Polwhelc, 
1 786-92. 

The  Capuchins  were  a  body  of  friars,  of  the  order  of  St.  Francis, 
instituted  by  Matteo  Baschi,  in  1525,  and  established  under  Pope 
Clement  \TI.,  in  1529.  They  were  at  first  called  Friars  Hermits  Minor. 
Their  order  was  confirmed,  in  1536,  by  Pope  Paul  III.,  who  named 
them  Capuchins  of  the  Order  of  Friars  Minor.  Their  name  was 
derived  from  the  Latin  designation  [Ciiputiuni]  of  the  cowl  that  they 
wore.  This  head-gear  was  shaped  like  a  sugar-loaf.  The  Capuchins 
were  introduced  into  France  in  i573-'74. 

Marie  de  Medicis,  the  Queen-mother,  was  born  at  Florence,  in  1573 ; 
made  mischief  for  even,  body,  all  her  days  ;  was  exiled  by  Richelieu  ;  and 
died,  at  Cologne,  in  destitution,  in  1642.  Louis  XIll.,  her  son,  was 
born  at  Fontainebleu,  September  27th,  1601  ;  came  to  the  throne  of 
France  in  1610;  and  died  at  St.  Gerniaine,  May  14th,  1643. 

Many  of  the  foregoing  notes  are  by  the  author.  Several  of  them  have 
been  shortened  and  mr>Hifie<l,  and  sevenil  ii<;efril  new  ones  have  been 
introduced.  There  are,  in  the  original,  other  notes,  which  relate  to 
passages  not  included  in  this  version  of  the  drama.— W.  W. 


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